#say what's the possibility of these things needing blood to function?

[abtl]

So yeah I only just heard about the concept of "wetware" and knowing that people are actually working on this kind of technology while I'm nerding and fixating on ULTRAKILL all day hits me with a very peculiar mix of feelings that I can't quite put my finger on at the moment.

#beetle posts #beetle rambles #ultrakill #wetware #wireless device #looks inside #writhing flesh and bone and sinew and nervous tissue and #say what's the possibility of these things needing blood to function? #I'm curious because now the line between machinery and biology has finally begun to blur

[ddarker-dreams]

do you have any hcs of what the yan genshin boys would b like when darlings on her period?

i'm gonna rank them from best to worst when it comes to dealing with this . let's see how they do.

best

zhongli is on top of his game. it's like he was born for the sole purpose of pampering you when you're under the weather. he'll insist on you taking it easy, drinking soothing teas, eating nutritious meals, and taking medication for whichever symptoms are the most prominent. if he seems oddly content, it's because he is. he won't state it outright, but he wants to leave the impression that him being in the position to care for you like this is worth the sacrifice of some... freedom. he knows of herbs and remedies to help make the experience as painless as possible.

kazuha already dotes on you as if you were royalty. while he leads a rather transient lifestyle, he puts your travels on pause to ensure you're properly cared for. he's sweet to a degree that'd be condescending from anyone else, but because it's kazuha and it's completely genuine, you can't call him out on it. he'll lay your head down on his lap and softly recite poetry until you doze off. he might not know much about periods specifically, but he treats it as if you were injured and need to be nursed back to health. he makes you your favorite meals from ingredients foraged locally. considers it a privilege on his part to be able to care for you. warmth blossoms in his chest whenever you have no choice but to ask him for something, your pride temporarily discarded.

albedo knows when your period is about to start before it even crosses your mind. he calculates every phase of your cycle and writes the important dates down in a calendar. he's all about preemptive care, he'll give you some concoctions of his own making the night before your period is due to start so you don't even have to worry about cramp pain. if you've been particularly troublesome lately, he might withhold this miracle elixir until you butter him up. he doesn't come outright and tell you this either, you have to do some trial and error to discern the specifics. as an alchemist, anything to do with the functions necessary to create life greatly fascinate him.

childe has sisters, so he's roughly familiar with how unpleasant periods are. he'll grin and reassure you that a little blood has never frightened him. thinks you're the cutest thing ever when you have to rely on him more. he's happy to oblige and is surprisingly intuitive about requests you never state verbally. he makes the tastiest soups, the kind that warm you from head to toe with every bite. there's no use trying to pretend you don't like it because he knows. he calms down on his tendency to tease you, since in his view, it's never his intent to actively make you feel distraught (unless you've acted out in a way that puts you in danger).

cyno means well (probably) but can come off as a little overbearing. he's literally breathing down your neck and constantly reminding you that if you need anything, just say the word. he's carrying you around, bringing you meals in bed, running all over town to get that one snack he knows you love; he's nothing if not dedicated. the thought of you being uncomfortable, much less in pain, is unbearable. when you do fall asleep, he's peeking into the room every five or ten minutes. every time you get your period, should any blood get on the sheets, he'll look you dead in the eye and ask if you've gotten in a fight lately. when you don't laugh, he starts explaining the joke, so it's better to force a chuckle.

diluc is just awkward about it. he refers to it as 'your time of the month' but even choking those words out is a struggle. he considers it to be a very private occurrence and thinks it'd be polite to tiptoe around the subject, as if it were taboo. the staff at dawn winery make further accommodations for you — everything you could ever want is a ring away. he's normally skeptical about you going outside, but since you're under the weather, he'll grant your request. if you're observant, you'll notice he's more inclined to give into your whims during this time. just don't get too carried away or he'll say he knows what you're doing at pointblank.

scaramouche is mostly annoyed that you're going to be more cranky for a while. your attention is essentially his lifeblood, but when you don't feel well, you're focusing on that instead of him. kind of inconsiderate tbh. once asked dottore if there's a way to prevent this, but dropped the idea when the harbinger said 'it only requires a few organs to be removed.' scaramouche would prefer your organs remain as is. he'll sigh and huff about how lucky you are to have him while spoon-feeding you, despite the fact he secretly enjoys it. his words are a whopping 10% nicer until you start to feel better, something he is frequently reminding you of. when your period is finished, he keeps staring in your general direction, fully expecting you to trip over yourself to thank him for his benevolence. if being delusional is a game, then he's winning.

when it comes to xiao, he's not awful per se, but this is likely his first encounter with menstruation, so you have to explain everything about it. he gets a bit freaked out the first time you wake up to bloody sheets, although you wouldn't be able to tell unless you closely observe his body language. he's somewhat at a loss when you explain what you need during your period and probably doesn't grab all the right things. he makes you eat these awfully bitter herbs that are supposed to help with pain. also makes some watery tea but gives you such a hopeful look, you don't have the heart to complain about the taste.

worst

#yandere zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #kazuha x reader #yandere kazuha x reader #yandere albedo x reader #albedo x reader #yandere cyno x reader #cyno x reader #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #diluc x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #my stuff #answered #Anonymous

[dantakeyoman]

You Want Your Avatar To Become Fully Na’vi, But Neteyam Is Firmly Against It (SFW / Slight-Angst)

Reader is Fem! Avatar

CW: Angry Neteyam, he means well, he’s just scared :’), reader is in her avatar body during argument, things for the humans of Pandora aren’t doing so great, this was NOT meant to take this long, i dont think this came out well

“Absolutely not! It is out of the question!” Neteyam harshly dismissed, turning his back on you.

“Neteyam, you are only looking at the possible downsides. I-.” “I do not find your death a downside, (y/n),” he cut off, whipping back around in anger.

He could not believe you were suggesting this, knowing how he felt about the subject.

You wanted to make the change, to ask Eywa to bond your human soul with your Na’vi avatar.

But there was no guarantee that the Great Mother would accept this request. 

In fact, it was highly likely that she would deny it, taking you to join her sooner than planned.

Like so many had before you.

“Well, living in my human body is not much different from death, is it?” you huffed, angrily crossing your arms.

“Do not talk like that,” Neteyam glared, pointing a warning finger at you, saying Eywa forbid in his head for good measure.

“It’s true! I am a human, Neteyam! Living on a planet where anything and everything can kill me! My bones aren’t reinforced with carbon like you!” you burst, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“All it takes is one misstep, one wrong move, one place I’m in at the wrong time. And I’m done. Finished.”

“I will protect you, then! But there is no way I can let you go through with this!” Neteyam exclaimed, his eyes having the tiniest flicker of...something.

It was fear.

This conversation was truly frightening him. 

You seemed dead set on this, not budging a single inch even after the screaming match you two had been having for the past hour.

“There is no guarantee that you will survive the transfer.”

“There is no guarantee that you will be there every time I need saving,” you countered, sharply.

“I WILL BE!”

“BUT WHAT IF YOU WON-?!”

“KEHE!” he loudly hissed, silencing you mid-sentence.

You looked at him, blankly. Shocked.

He had never hissed at you before.

“I will not listen to this any longer,” he said darkly, turning around and getting ready to walk out.

You could not let the argument end like this. 

And you knew you had to share with him what you had found out from the scientists.

"There’s been talk, Neteyam,” you started, the Na’vi boy stopping in his tracks.

He was listening.

“I overheard Norm and Max talking about the oxygen tanks that were left over from the first Great War. They said that they can only last for so long. And with no way to replenish them, they’re guessing we only have about a year and a half of air left before it completely runs out.”

Neteyam’s eyes shot wide as he turned around, looking at you nervously.

Fearfully.

“That is why I have been so persistent with this. If I do not make the transfer, I will either be sent back to Earth-.” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Or I will die.”

The horrible word sent Neteyam’s head spinning, his mind already coming up with images of you laying on the forest ground, gasping for air that was no longer there.

Both options were unbearable.

Your death was obviously out of the question. But going back to Earth? 

He’d never see you again. 

You’d go back to living with your people. And no doubt some human man would try to sweep you off your feet.

The very thought made his blood boil, and his heart burn.

Not you. Not his love.

He didn’t think he could physically function without you by his side.

Who would braid his hair? Who would cuddle him when he was tired? Who would help patch his wounds after battle?

The poor boy was so lost in his imaginary grief, that he didn’t even notice to walk up to him, until you cupped his cheek in your hand.

“Do you see now? The choice is death now, or death later-.” “Please,” Neteyam stopped you, pleadingly, his voice cracking as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Do not speak like that. Do not bring those pictures into my head.”

You sighed, allowing your thumb to caress his cheek as you placed a feather-light kiss on his lips.

“I will not go through it without your blessing, my Neteyam,” you assured, giving him a sad smile.

If Neteyam did not feel comfortable with you making the transition, then you would respect his wishes. 

Neteyam took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“You promise you will come back to me?” he asked, muffled as he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

You cheesed, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“I do not believe Eywa brought us together if she did not plan for me to.”

...

“Tìng mikun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok!” Mo’at exclaimed to the People, the Sully family, and the entire clan connected to the Soul Tree.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison, the bioluminescent ground pulsing on beat.

You, and your avatar body, lay naked at the base of the tree, unconscious as the undergrowth made tsaheylu with the nape of both your necks.

Neteyam kneeled nervously before you, saying his own quiet prayer to Eywa for your good health.

To everyone else, he seemed surprisingly calm about this, as if the whole ceremony didn’t faze him in the slightest.

But on the inside, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

If you were to die, he didn’t think he could take it.

He wasn’t strong enough.

When he watched the beautiful eyes of your human body shut, it felt as if his heart was being ripped out.

What if that was the last time he could look into them? 

His hands shook as he continued, the only one seeming to notice being his mother.

She knew how she felt.

She was in his exact place at one time. Years ago.

“Pori tireati, munge mì nga,” Mo’at walked over to your human body, shaking her hands above you.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“ulte tìng ayoer nì’eyng ngeyä ya!” she shifted to your avatar, shaking her hands above her as well.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“Tivìran po ayoekip,” Mo’at held her hands up to the air.

“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.

“Na Na’viyä hapxì!” she shouted, whipping her hands out to the People.

“Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”

Mo’at’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she continued to chant, Neteyam practically sweating bullets.

It’d be quite a funny sight if the stakes weren’t so high.

“Lu hasey!” she shouted, silencing the crowd.

The ceremony was done.

Quickly, Neteyam crouched over you, carefully removing the oxygen mask from your face and placing it next to you.

He leaned down, placing two, gentle kisses on each of your eyelids.

You looked so peaceful.

Moving over to your avatar, he carefully caressed her face, looking down at her so lovingly.

Don’t get him wrong, your human body was beautiful. One of the prettiest he’s ever seen.

But when it came to your avatar.....well....let’s just say your features, and a Na’vi woman’s features, mix very well.

“Please wake up, my love. I am right here. I am waiting for you,” he encouraged, raising your hand to his cheek as he sadly smiled.

He knew passing through the Eye of Eywa was very tiring, but he would be there to cheer you on the whole way.

And just like that, you gasped, your eyes snapping open.

The entire clan went up in uproarious cheers.

This was the first time the transfer had worked in a long time.

“My (y/n)!” Neteyam sighed, relieved as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

He was at the brink of tears.

He was so, so proud of you.

That’s right. His soon-to-be mate was the one that survived. 

She was a strong, beautiful, and tough woman, Na’vi or not.

“It....worked!” you looked down at yourself, turning over your hands to get a good look at them.

I had truly worked. You were Na’vi now.

And you had seen Eywa.

Oh, she was so gorgeous. Her beauty was divine, and beyond complete comprehension, but she was still soft and kind, like that of a mother.

You would have to tell Neteyam all about it when you got a chance.

Speak of the devil.

“Neteyam!” you squealed as the boy quickly scooped you up bridal style, turning to the clan with a smirk on his face.

“AUAUAUAUAUAUAUAU!” he ululated happily, holding you close as he paraded you down the aisle, his smile nearly blinding you.

You laughed, wrapping our arms around his neck as the people of the clan cheered, some letting out their own shouts of joy.

As you two approached his ikran, you smirked, sitting yourself down on the saddle.

“I told you I would make it back,” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the warrior as he hopped on behind you.

“I am happy you proved me wrong,” he smirked, turning your chin with his thumb and index, landing a passionate kiss on your lips.

It was the type to leave you breathless when you separated.

Which it did.

As you stared at him, stupidly...lovingly. He smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“What am I going to do with you?”

...

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fluff #omitacaya #atwow x reader #atwow

[crazyinluvfix]

DON’T NEED SAVING - a klaus mikaelson oneshot

summary: when klaus brings his girlfriend to meet his family for the first time they don’t exactly welcome her with open arms. namely, rebekah. but as soon as she takes a dagger to her pride she gets ANGRY, and it makes klaus love her even more.

WARNINGS: swearing, depictions of anger / fighting, physical violence ( not domestic )

request: @ranisingsnew

3.7k words

┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

Klaus swore he would never let his power be dampened by something as frivolous as love - that he’d never be with a woman for more than a fling. He was too good for it. Too strong. Especially to fall for a human.

That was until he met Y/n.

One of his worldly escapades had led him to a place with architecture so beautiful, life so pure, and a certain spark so bold it could capture even him in its wonder.

All of this held his attention so tightly that he didn't even notice what was right in front of him until he hit it. Literally.

His typically sly, dark blue eyes seemed to flash a shade lighter for just a second when he looked up, growing wide at the sight before him. Something even more exquisite and awestriking than the scenery - something he never thought possible. Her.

She looked at him expectantly with an arched eyebrow as his brain practically short-circuited at the smell of the sweet blood beneath her veins.

“I-” he paused. “Sorry, love. Forgive me, I was in my own world,” his stare piercing, gaining back his usual strength after that brief moment of weakness, his signature smirk at home on his lips.

But his face practically dropped in surprise as her’s stayed just as it was; unmoving, unyielding, unimpressed, with arms crossed over her chest as she eyed him up and down.

Klaus felt unusually insufficient under her cold gaze, one that could rival his. He took a step forward, shaking out his shoulders to regain the intimidating presence he was so known for, folding his arms back at her.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?”

The look she gave was incredulous. “That depends, why are you asking?”

This one was feisty, he liked that, he liked a challenge.

His tongue swiped over his teeth with a slight chuckle before speaking again, the lilt in his voice that he used to woo any woman when he wanted to watch them crumble. “I’m new in town, I was hoping you could show me around,” he moved closer, “I’d love to get to know… the place.” A ring-clad hand reached forward to brush a strand of hair from her face.

But she got there before he could.

Her silence was deafening as she mulled the offer over. It wasn’t often that a woman could resist his charms for so long.

“If you’re so desperate to be in my company then fine. You can tag along but I’m not gonna be your little tour guide.”

The stark contrast between her sweet appearance and her fierce attitude was beyond alluring.

Klaus was willing to take anything he could get, feeling more like a lost puppy than he had in over 1000 years, and he was on her leash.

For days he managed to seek her out, every chance he got.

It was a means to an end, the usual end. At least, that’s what he told himself

But the less she fell victim to his charms, the more he was weirdly captured by hers.

Compulsion didn’t seem to work either - did she really make him so weak that he couldn’t perform such a basic function?

Instead, when she got defensive to his advances, it was like she put a spell on him of her own. She wasn’t a witch, but her mind games felt more powerful than any that he had met.

“What do you say we go and get a little drink, huh?” he leaned forward and looked into her eyes, waiting for her pupils to dilate so he could have her right where he wanted her.

“What are you doing?”

Klaus was abruptly taken aback, blinking rapidly as he let out a confused, breathy chuckle. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything, love,” his eyes never left hers.

“No, that thing with your eyes,” she nodded, dead set on what she saw.

His only instinct was to try again, “You didn’t see anything.”

“There!” she caught it once more, causing him to take a step back; it was safe to say he was completely and utterly perplexed.

“You just did it again! What was that?”

Her eyes seemed to control him instead and he almost stuttered - he never stuttered.

This woman had him - the most powerful man on the planet - wrapped around her tiny little mortal finger.

~

She and Klaus had been dating for a few months now. After weeks of his constant flowers, letters, paintings, and smooth talk she finally gave in. He couldn’t help but think she only accepted his efforts because she had wanted a break from trying to resist them, and this is what she thought at first too; that she’d let him win for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, and then break it off.

But as the months passed, she too fell head over heels for him. Over this short time he had already revealed everything to her about his supernatural world, he trusted her with his life and knew that she wouldn’t say a word. Klaus hadn’t thought his attraction to her could get any stronger, but he was now the most whipped he had ever been. She was more than his usual affair or snack. She was his soulmate, he was sure of it.

But Klaus was a family man through and through, and he felt as if it was finally time for them to meet the love of his immortal life.

~

“I will never let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” Klaus turned to look at his beautiful girlfriend who sat calmly in the passenger seat of his car - he seemed more nervous than she did.

I simply rolled my eyes and laughed, he was so protective it almost hurt. “I know, Nik. You’ve told me about a thousand times already.”

He just smiled. “I have. But I just wanted to warn you that they’re not always the most friendly bunch - obviously that skipped me.” He tried to end on a quip to ease my mind, something he wouldn’t have thought to do for anyone else.

His family had a very complicated history, and a lot of it revolved around him, so their feelings toward him fluctuated on the daily. It was a fact that he was the strongest; and even though he wasn’t the oldest he was by far the boss of the Mikaelson group. So if any one of them put even one bad word on my name he was more than ready to tear them apart.

I had heard all about the family drama - Klaus was undoubtedly one to gossip - but I knew I could handle anything they threw at me on my own, even if it was from an original vampire.

~

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Klaus turned the key to the ornate wooden doors, swinging them open with his usual dramatics as he took my hand and led me inside.

My jaw immediately dropped. ‘Humble,’ definitely didn’t do it justice.

I had expected it to be nice, but this house was beyond lavish, stunning, massive - not the dark cave many would expect from a bunch of ancient vampires.

Klaus had obviously noticed the look of awe sweep my face because he laughed, that low chuckle he always did that set my heart on fire.

Subtleties in his eyes told me that he was glad I liked it so much. I had heard from many that they found my boyfriend incredibly hard to read, which was actually quite a shock to me because I had pried open the windows to his soul the very moment I met him.

He never freed my hand from his he led us into the main room. “Where are they?” he scanned the area and listened for footsteps upstairs since they did know we were coming.

“Kol! Elijah! Rebekah! Come down!” he shouted throughout the grand house and made me giggle. He really was the leader of the family.

A variety of shouts called back before three figures sped down to the bottom floor.

Two men and one woman. One of the men wore more casual clothes, a jacket over a button-up shirt and some jeans - much like how Klaus typically dressed - while the other wore a full suit at 4 pm on a Tuesday. They both practically scowled at the sight of me, but the blonde girl was the worst. I couldn’t tell if that was how her face fell or if she was purposefully staring daggers through me as if to telepathically wound me with her attitude - she looked like a blast…

Klaus then stepped forward, bringing me with him, a happy grin on his face, “Brothers, Rebekah, this is my wonderful Y/n.” His hand gestured towards me with a softness none of them had seen before, not that they cared.

I noticed how they all seemed to size me up. They were silent, but their mannerisms spoke louder than their words ever could’ve. The vibe that was given off immediately was that I was being judged.

Nevertheless, I chose to be polite, to be the bigger person - you’d think for people who had been alive so long they would’ve had the time to learn manners. “Nice to meet you all,” I offered a warm smile that none of them returned. Tough crowd.

Soon, the awkward introductions were over and we all went to sit in the living room. As we walked over Klaus leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “They’re always a bit cranky around this time,” smirking as he knew that they were vampires and would most definitely hear him. I could not help but let out a small laugh.

Klaus, of course, made sure I sat as close to him as physically possible when we got to the couch, his arm around my shoulder as everyone else sat on the other chairs around the room.

The conversation started light; ‘What do you do for work,’ ‘Where are you from,’ etc.

Meanwhile, the blonde who I now know to be Rebekah had not spoken a word, that was until she shouted out in the middle of my answer to one of Elijah’s questions.

“So, what do you want with him?” she referred to her brother and I could practically feel him roll his eyes behind me.

“Is it his money? Or is it that you want to become like us?” she assumed, the thought making her laugh out loud.

I felt Klaus’ hand tighten around mine and the way his chest rose when he took a deep breath in, “Rebekah.” His tone was strict, warning.

“Shh,” I ran my fingertips over his knuckles, quickly looking back to tell him it was okay before turning back to Rebekah.

“Neither, believe it or not,” my smile was sweet, but also slightly condescending. “I’m with him because we love each other, is that so hard to believe?” I made sure to keep my words friendly, even though I could not help the undertones of my annoyance at her insolence slip through.

“Hm,” she hummed shortly, practically looking down her nose at me from across the room. “It is, actually. Nik has never been one for love, right brothers?” she gestured to the two men for them to back her up, but it seemed like they knew to say nothing.

The scoff that left my lips was very much involuntary, but it seemed to add to her frustration which I admittedly took some pride in. “Hm,” I mimicked her sound, “that’s funny because he seems to love me an awful lot, at first I thought too much,” I giggled and the man in question did too, an effort to keep the tension light while subtly trying to keep her in her place. Which didn’t work.

“Interesting,” she didn’t sound like she cared in the slightest, giving up on making conversation with me and directing her next question to her brother. “It just shocks me, Nik, that you would go for her when you could have any woman in the world. I never thought you’d choose such an… average human.”

Klaus was practically seething, the more she spoke the tenser he got and the closer he approached to his tipping point.

“I mean,” she continued, clearly incredibly amused at both of our reactions, “why don’t you just dump her now and we could all just have a little snack? That’s what your plan is anyway, right? Dinner’s on you tonight.”

My hand stayed firmly on his leg to stop him from getting up, telling him softly that it was okay and that I had got this - I didn’t need saving, not from her.

“Where did you even find this chick?” Rebekah let out a shrill laugh but was quickly taken aback when she saw someone stand up in anger.

And it wasn’t Klaus.

It was an instinct to shoot up, and when Nik brought his hand to mine to get me to sit down I removed it and laughed back at her myself. “You know, you have some serious audacity, Rebekah,” I spat out her name as everyone watched on in suspense, waiting for the incoming catfight.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, a choked sound coming leaving her throat before she returned, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh,” I chuckled darkly, “I’m serious alright. You have no right to say anything about my relationship just because you obviously can’t get someone of your own. He’s your brother, you’re not his little lap dog. So hop off my dick little vamp girl and go find someone else’s to ride.”

The longer I sat there and listened to her kick-off, the more strength bubbled up inside of me ready to burst. Now that it was out I felt even better, especially when I saw her expression; eyes wide, mouth open, too stunned to get out more than a few intelligible stutters. Shocked that some ‘average human girl’ could fire back so strongly.

Meanwhile, as I spoke Klaus was watching over, but the smirk on his face was nothing but a proud one. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing at how amazing this was - she usually carried such a sweet disposition, but the fieriness he was seeing now was definitely something he could get used to. He had always been a sucker for confrontation and riling his family up, and the fact that she could add to that made him love her even more.

“You little-” Rebekah spat furiously, slowly going to stand up herself.

I cut her off. “What? What else could you possibly have to say?” I looked at her expectantly, putting my hands on my hips, but she said nothing. “That’s what I thought. Now I see why Nik put you in a box for a hundred years. It’s been what? Fifteen minutes and you’ve already questioned my love, my loyalty, and shouted out death threats. You may be immortal, Rebekah, but you need to learn that that doesn’t make you a God.”

Every word I came back at her with only strengthened the grin on Klaus’ face - he loved his siblings in his own way, but nothing made him happier than seeing his girl stand up for herself and put them in their place. A few times he had to stop himself from getting up and intervening, but he couldn’t. He would’ve stepped in if he could tell this was taking a toll, but deep down he had always known that I was just like him, we were both just having too much fun.

Rebekah looked utterly defeated, clearly not used to having someone push back at her snarky comments so this was seemingly long overdue. So much so that I even earned a smirk and a look of newfound respect from the brother in formal wear, Elijah.

But that’s when blondie had finally had enough.

Within less than a split second, she sped over and grabbed me by the throat, pinning me to the wall at the back of the room and squeezing so my air supply was restricted, my feet dangling just above the floor.

“You dare speak to me like that, you filthy little…” she hissed, bringing her face close to mine and watching maliciously as my eyes grew wider.

But if I thought she moved fast, Klaus travelled at twice her speed in the blink of an eye, rushing to my rescue. His hands made quick work of prying her off of me and shoving her to the wall instead, reaching down to the back of his shoe where his trousers were baggy enough to conceal - and he pulled out a shiny, silver dagger.

I could do nothing but stand there stock still while the scene played out in front of me, the other brothers shooting up too but doing the same as me.

“Don’t you ever speak to her like that again,” his voice was low, yet scarily loud, but that’s not what seemed to panic Rebekah. No, she was focused on the dagger he held against her sternum, the point brushing against her top.

‘You take a dagger to her pride, I take a dagger to your heart.’ Klaus’ mind whirred with anger.

Just as she opened her mouth to plea for her brother's forgiveness or offer some half-assed apology which she would prove false the moment he let her go, he plunged the dagger into her chest. She let out a high-pitched wince as his eyes still burned into hers with pure loathing.

“Now, say you’re sorry,” he snarled darkly - so this was the Klaus I had heard about. Cruel, righteous, formidable. And the worst part; I wasn’t even scared. I may have gasped at the suddenness of his actions, but I could not help the feeling that arose within me when I saw him choose me over his own flesh and blood without so much as a second thought.

She choked on her own words, “I- I’m sorry.” Her eyes never left his.

His hand moved to twist the knife, releasing another squeak from the victim of his wrath. He spoke firmly and finally, as if this was her last warning, “To her.”

That’s when she finally turned her head to face me, “I’m sorry… Y/n.” It looked like it killed her to force out those words, but it was better than being killed again with the dagger that was hairs away from causing her to be put in a coffin for another century.

As soon as Klaus felt she had been sincere enough he ripped the blade out, his face still serious as he wiped the blood off on the fabric of his jacket. “Go,” he said plainly, not even wasting his energy on looking up from his hands. All three of them listened - I assumed that upon his revelation of the dagger (which none of them knew he had so close), they now were thinking only of themselves, fleeing the scene before they met their fates again.

They all vanished in one quick woosh leaving only me and Klaus who had shifted back into my sickeningly sweet Nik once more upon their departure.

I hadn’t even noticed that I had been clutching my chest this whole time, only taking it off when he moved his gaze to me and that wicked look in his eyes softened instantaneously into one that made me feel right at home, hurrying to me to make sure I was okay.

Without having time to even register everything that just happened I was encased in the arms of my saviour, him resting his head on top of mine while a hand moved up to gently stroke my hair. To anyone else, thinking of him acting in such a caring manner after being so ruthless would’ve been unimaginable. But to me? It was all I’d ever known.

“Shh. You’re okay, love,” he cooed before pulling back slightly and cradling my head in both his hands, bringing his soft lips to plant a tender kiss on my forehead.

I looked up at him like he was the only thing in the world; the way he had looked at me every time since the day we met.

“I’m sorry that I exposed you to that part of me, it was something I had hoped you’d never see.” Apologies didn’t come naturally to Klaus… that was, to everyone but me.

Nothing was said, I let my actions speak for themselves as a genuine smile formed on my face and I hopped up onto my tiptoes to kiss him fervently. He seemed rather shocked at the sudden change in tone, but it’s not like he was complaining. Instead, he happily reciprocated my movements, a mischievous, goofy grin left on him in the wake of my lips as I pulled back.

“Don’t apologise,” I shook my head at him in reassurance, “I thought it was sexy,” biting my lip in a teasing manner as I put his racing mind at rest - he truly was such a sweetie behind closed doors. It was honestly a shame the world would never see him the way I did - but then again, that would mean I would have to share him, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

His bright blue eyes lit up as I spoke, in a way as if to ask ‘Really?’

In response to his silent appeal for confirmation, I nodded.

“At least you’ve met them now so you finally know what I mean when I complain about my family,” he used a tone much lighter than before now that he wasn’t shouting or apologising.

A laugh escaped me, causing me to quickly cover my mouth, “I guess you weren’t joking, huh?”

Sighing in reply he shook his head in embarrassment, thinking he should’ve never taken me here in the first place. “Come, let’s go somewhere else, somewhere nicer.” His head cocked to the side as he held out an arm for me to cling to, signalling for us both to leave.

My hand graciously slipped forward to meet his request as we walked toward the door, looking up at him one last time. “You’re my hero, Klaus Mikaelson.”

Upon hearing the giggle I let out after my words his smile only widened. “Always and forever, my love.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

requests in bio x

└──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┘

#klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the originals #fluff #angst #tvd #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus isn’t as scary as he seems #grumpy x sunshine #(klaus miklaelson is the sunshine)

[scientia-rex]

Because my most popular post is about weight loss and how it's a crock, I get a lot of questions about various things, including bariatric surgery--just posted the link to the post I did about that--but also Ozempic/Wegovy, the once-weekly injectable semaglutide medication that was developed for diabetes but was found to have independent benefits on weight loss.

I always said that weight loss was like Viagra: when a medication came along that actually worked, it would explode. We'd all hear about it. Fen-phen in the 90s worked, but it was bad for your heart. Stimulants, like meth, may cause weight loss, but they do it at the cost of heart health, and raise your likelihood of dying young. Over the counter weight loss supplements often contain illegal and unlisted thyroid hormone, which is also dangerous for the heart if taken in the absence of a real deficiency. Orlistat, or "Alli," works the same way as the Olestra chips Lays made in the 1990s--it shuts off your ability to digest fats, and the problem with that is that fats irritate the gut, so then you end up with fatty diarrhea and probably sharts. Plus Alli only leads to 8-10lbs of weight loss in the best case scenario, and most people are not willing to endure sharts for the sake of 8lbs.

And then came the GLP-1 agonists. GLP stands for glucagon-like peptide. Your body uses insulin to make cells uptake sugar. You can't just have free-floating sugar and use it, it has to go into the cells to be used. So if your body sucks at moving sugar into the cells, you end up with a bunch of glucose hanging out in places where it shouldn't be, depositing on small vessels, damaging nerves and your retinas and kidneys and everywhere else that has a whole lot of sensitive small blood vessels, like your brain.

Glucagon makes your liver break down stored sugars and release them. You can think of it as part of insulin's supporting cast. If your body needs sugar and you aren't eating it, you aren't going to die of hypoglycemia, unless you've got some rare genetic conditions--your liver is going to go, whoops, here you go! and cough it up.

But glucagon-like peptide doesn't act quite the same way. What glucagon-like peptide does is actually stimulating your body to release insulin. It inhibits glucagon secretion. It says, we're okay, we're full, we just ate, we don't need more glucagon right now.

This has been enough for many people to both improve blood sugar and cause weight loss. Some patients find they think about food less, which can be a blessing if you have an abnormally active hunger drive, or if you have or had an eating disorder.

However, every patient I've started on semaglutide in any form (Ozempic, Wegovy, or Rybelsus) has had nausea to start with, probably because it slows the rate of stomach emptying. And that nausea sometimes improves, and sometimes it doesn't. There's some reports out now of possible gastroparesis associated with it, which is where the stomach just stops contracting in a way that lets it empty normally into the small intestine. That may not sound like a big deal, but it's a lifelong ticket to abdominal pain and nausea and vomiting, and we are not good at treating it. We're talking Reglan, a sedating anti-nausea but pro-motility agent, which makes many of my patients too sleepy to function, or a gastric pacemaker, which is a relatively new surgery. You can also try a macrolide antibiotic, like erythromycin, but I have had almost no success in getting insurance to cover those and also they have their own significant side effects.

Rapid weight loss from any cause, whether illness, medication, or surgery, comes with problems. Your skin is not able to contract quickly. It probably will, over long periods of time, but "Ozempic face" and "Ozempic butt" are not what people who want to lose weight are looking for. Your vision of your ideal body does not include loose, excess skin.

The data are also pretty clear that you can't "kick start" weight loss with Ozempic and then maintain it with behavioral mechanisms. If you want to maintain the weight loss, you need to stay on the medication. A dose that is high enough to cause weight loss is significantly higher than the minimum dose where we see improvements in blood sugar, and with a higher dose comes higher risk of side effects.

I would wait on semaglutide. I would wait because it's been out for a couple of years now but with the current explosion in popularity we're going to see more nuanced data on side effects emerging. When you go from Phase III human trials to actual use in the world, you get thousands or millions more data points, and rare side effects that weren't seen in the small human trials become apparent. It's why I always say my favorite things for a drug to be are old, safe, and cheap.

I also suspect the oral form, Rybelsus, is going to get more popular and be refined in some way. It's currently prohibitively expensive--all of these are; we're talking 1200 or so bucks a month before insurance, and insurance coverage varies widely. I have patients who pay anything from zero to thirty to three hundred bucks a month for injectable semaglutide. I don't think I currently have anyone whose insurance covers Rybelsus who could also tolerate the nausea. My panel right now is about a thousand patients.

There are also other GLP-1 agonists. Victoza, a twice-daily injection, and Trulicity, and anything else that ends in "-aglutide". But those aren't as popular, despite being cheaper, and they aren't specifically approved for weight loss.

Mounjaro is a newer one, tirzepatide, that acts on two receptors rather than one. In addition to stimulating GLP-1 receptors, it also stimulates glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP) receptors. It may work better; I'm not sure whether that's going to come with a concomitantly increased risk of side effects. It's still only approved for diabetes treatment, but I suspect that will change soon and I suspect we'll see a lot of cross-over in terms of using it to treat obesity.

I don't think these medications are going away. I also don't think they're right for everyone. They can reactivate medullary thyroid carcinoma; they can fuck up digestion; they may lead to decreased quality of life. So while there may be people who do well with them, it is okay if those people are not you. You do not owe being thin to anyone. You most certainly do not owe being thin to the extent that you should risk your health for it. Being thin makes navigating a deeply fat-hating world easier, in many ways, so I never blame anyone for wanting to be thin; I just want to emphasize that it is okay if you stay fat forever.

#the attending dr. kristophine

[monarcascension]

louder than bombs | y.h

summary : You and Yunho’s relationship was a complicated one. But not as complicated as the relationship you both shared with Choi San, your “ex” and his ex-best friend. After ending things with him years ago, you and Yunho embarked on a situationship of your own, however things between you begin to spiral out of control putting your relationship in danger. Will your feelings for each other help you salvage what you have? Or will you lose him forever?

pairings: jeong yunho x fem!reader

tags: MINORS DNI, nsfw, smut warning, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, guided masturbation, domxsub, creampie, violence, blood warning, vulgar language, sensual language, sex talk, rough sex ♡

*DISCLAIMER : This story is mainly for entertainment purposes. This is not a representation of the artists themselves or their actual personalities and is only created to be a work of fiction. Their actions are only for storytelling and literary purposes.*

[ AVOID SPOILERS — READ PART 1 HERE ] ㋛㋛㋛

[ User Tags: @simeonswhore @hopetiger10 ]

word count: 13K

——

Regret was like a vicious toxin. Eroding you from the inside out until there was nothing left other than the thought of what could have been. Desperate clings to the paths you chose not to take prior. Ever since San, you lived with many of them. You wished you never met him. You had a desire to rewind time and make it so he was never a part of your life to begin with. You were tired of being tangled in all of this pain that his selfishness had caused you, but you loathe yourself for letting it get this far.

Now to add onto the declaration list of your compunctions, you stood in disbelief from what you just let slip out of your mouth to the man you had previously shared a piece of your heart with.

“I…I think I fell in love with Yunho.”

The sentence looped in your head; echoing like bats trying to echolocate their way through a dark cave. Those were words that you never thought you would ever utter to yourself, let alone anybody else. You swore free from the spell of “love” or whatever those feelings meant to you, and kept them under a stiff lock and key even from Yunho who you had grown into this semi-functional situationship with. The two of you, however, had a deal. You both were aware of what you were stepping into when you decided to share a bed that night—making it clear that feelings would never be involved in what you had. It kept things from being complicated between you— the one barrier that protected you both from one another, from the disappointment that could be brought on from any physical adventure— had been ruined because of you.

Because you decided to fall in love yet again.

Your heart was thumping so roughly against the cage of your chest that it was beginning to pierce skin. Your forehead was moist with beaded sweat. You wiped it away, curious to know if it was from the immoral activities the two of you had just finished, or from the anxiety you felt at what his response could possibly be. The silence was too much for you to bear so you cleared your throat, hoping to subtract from the awkwardness.

All you could hear was his rough, ragged breath intermingling with your broken sighs. You were too scared to look at him, afraid of what might reflect back at you if you did. The sudden need to explain yourself arised, feeling it to be your responsibility to mitigate whatever hurt you had just caused. But what could you possibly say to fix everything? Words weren’t enough in this instance.

Your brain finally cleared from the high you were on, giving you full autonomy over your thoughts. “San I-” You stammered, but a hand and a low tone hushed you within moments.

“You… love him?.” His voice was calm, but his words were harsh. Deserved at the least. “So, why did you kiss me? Why did we just do anything that we just did?”

The last thing you ever though you would do if you saw him again was fuck him the first chance you got. You believed that it was the guilt of knowing that you could never love San the way he wanted you to. Engulfed in the inability to properly explain what it was that you felt with words, you said with action. Though, it may have been the wrong action considering the circumstances. The realization that the two of you never shared a real emotional connection and could only communicate through physical means was the main source of your confusing relationship with him. One thing you learned however was that sex didn’t always mean love or an invitation into something serious. Sometimes sex was just that. Sex. Sometimes it was a physical love letter. Sometimes it was a goodbye.

You wished you would have discovered that sooner rather than now.

You swallowed a clump of saliva in your throat and moved away from the door that you both were propped up against. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want, San.”

San scoffed at that comment. “You can’t? Or you’d rather give it to someone else?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, running your fingers over your forehead like you were trying to make sure your brain was still there and functioning. “This was a mistake.”

You paced the bathroom floor. The words sounded more heartless and cruel leaving your mouth than it sounded in your head.

You fetched your phone and purse that clattered to the floor and tucked them underneath your arm, striding over to the bathroom sink to fix whatever damage your look had undergone.

Your lipstick had smudged a bit because of the inopportune display of affection, and you quickly fixed it with a facial wipe that was tucked inside the depths of your bag. You readjusted yourself; affixed your dress straps back into place and refluffed your hair until you looked a little better than you had moments ago. It wasn’t the same but it would do for now. The final touch was just masking the scent of sex that was practically etched into your skin with the perfume that you always carried with you. Your hair would hide the light bruise on your neck that San left from canvassing your flesh with his mouth.

“Wow.” He sounded hurt. You could not blame him. “ A mistake, huh? So, you're saying you still felt something for me— was that a mistake too?”

“Look, this is too complicated for either of us. It always has been, and I think we have collectively had enough complicated relationships to last us a lifetime.” You inhaled with a sharp breath. “Let's just end it. Once and for all—on a good note this time.”

“No, this isn’t complicated for me.” San stood to his feet now, tugging on the dress shirt he had on to straighten it back out again. “This is complicated for you.”

“I don’t want to fight about this, San. Just drop it.”

He continued anyway. “Am I wrong? You’re confused. You don’t know what you want! Who you want.”

You didn’t bother to look at him directly, only stared at the silhouette of his figure in the corner of the mirror. There was a noise rising in your throat, breaking through your closed lips and out into the air. You started to laugh.

“What? You wanted me to choose you? After everything you put me through.” You chuckled again. “You’re out of your damn mind. I’d rather be with someone who actually knows how to love me.”

“Love you?” San snickered. “You don’t know Yunho as well as you think you do, if you believe he’s actually capable of loving you. Believe me when I say, he’s not the guy you think he is.”

You almost gave yourself whiplash from the force of the twirl as you turned to look at San, shooting an incredulous look at him. What was that supposed to mean? You’ve spent years being around Yunho and he was just as sweet and gentle as he had always been. He was caring and open and.. you wanted to believe that the stream of affections that he had shown you came from somewhere deep down. Came from him possibly loving you. At least you hoped.

“And you think you’re better? You think you know everything, San, but you don’t. We didn't want any of this, it just h-”

“Happened. Right?” He finished your words like they were his own.

The two of you stared at one another. You could feel the heat rising to your face, your skin– although burning with the anger that was manifesting– felt cold.

“You say you love him and he loves you, blah blah blah, but what do you think he’ll do when he finds out what happened between us?” San said with a sneer.

All you could do was stare at him for a moment. Your eyes darted around his figure wildly, trying to reveal whatever secret meaning was behind his words. Or was it a threat? You tried not to think of that possibility as you turned back to face the mirror, focused on the goal that you were trying to achieve. You heard some minor shuffling from behind you, but paid no mind to it. The bathroom door squeaked open with a shrill, and you awaited the moments that the door closed, telling you that San was gone, but it never came. There was the loud chatter from outside where the rest of the party was, and the classical music being played from the live band.

Then he spoke again. “I was really hoping things would be different between us this time, but I guess you chose the wrong guy to love, again. Right?”

You paused for a moment, sitting on the last words that San left you with before he walked out of the bathroom— leaving you completely and utterly alone. Again. That simple word stung you more than you were willing to admit; feeling almost uncomfortable in your own skin as the sentence dug deeper into your flesh causing you to writhe and shift in place. However, he was right.

What did you really know about love anyway except the part of it that hurt the most? How would you know if Yunho was really even the right one to love you in the first place? What if you couldn’t love him as you say you did? Stuck in the perpetual cycle of pain all over again because of an inadequacy that you lacked within yourself. You loved San once, didn’t you? Wasn’t everything you put yourself through with him for the sake of love? Or was it something else? So many questions clouded your brain, it was overwhelming. You could not answer them all at once, for the answers never offered themselves to you in the first place.

Everything you thought you knew, came crumbling down in a matter of seconds, leaving a wake of unregistered feelings and unsolved emotional turmoils.

You spent the better part of the last four years in anguish over San. That night you found him in the arms of another woman, haunted you. The words “I love you” hurt you more than they healed you, carving a wound so deep in your heart that you felt it would never mend itself. You despised those words, and could never bring yourself to say them. Questioning yourself on what love really is all over again.

플래시백

You loved Seoul Forest Park. In fact, other than Namsan, this was the park you visited more frequently. It was more peaceful. Your sacred place. However, this is the first time you came with someone else, and the atmosphere was just as calm and serene as you had left it months ago. The trees dance in a contemporary style swaying elegantly in the wind, telling a story of their place in this reserve. The leaves shuffled against one another, forming the instruments for the performance; since it was coming upon the Spring, they were just as bright and healthy as you could have hoped. The sky was a pale blue, brushed with sparse, but fluffy clouds overhead. The sun hid its blinding rays behind the tufts of white that passed over it, protecting both you and Yunho from the unforgiving heat.

The two of you were sitting at the pond, surrounded with beautiful stone tablets. Some of them even crossed the water like a small bridge. Yunho was skipping rocks that he found nearby, while you watched a family of ducks run across the stone with its brigade of ducklings. One of them fell into the water clumsily. You smiled more happily than you usually would have at the sight as the other babies attempted to stick their stout beaks into the water to help their sibling up. The mother took notice and tried to see what the commotion was about. You giggled a bit to yourself, but possibly louder than you thought. Yunho perked up and followed your gaze to find the source of your laughter.

“Have you ever had a duck before?” He asked you, quite randomly.

You turned to him with raised eyebrows, but readjusted to engage in the sudden conversation. “No, not as a pet, but.” You thought about it for a moment, trying to recall your childhood. “Since I used to live by a bigger lake, we saw a lot of ducks come and go. My dad and I used to feed them together.”

“They’re funny little things, but they always seem to be on the move— never stay in one place too long.” There seemed to be something that Yunho wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. So, he continued. “I used to have one named Oli. I feel like he only used me for my bread, but he was a real pal. I think I missed a Summer seeing him since I was inside playing video games most of the time, and he was probably expecting me to come and feed him, but I forgot… never saw him again after that. I wonder where he is now.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, shaking your head in that same disappointed manner you always did and laughed against your will. “Maybe those are his kids.”

Yunho grinned and laughed, considering the possibility. “Maybe, but those ducks don’t have his feathers.”

You chuckled and sighed all in the same breath. “It feels so easy for animals to just pick up and move on after being disappointed. I’m jealous of Oli.”

Yunho smiled at you for a moment. His gaze shifted towards the grassy slope you both sat on, twiddling with the blades at his side. “Yeah, I probably really let him down, but I don’t think it’s that easy for them to move on. When you spend a lot of time in one place, you get accustomed to it. If I was Oli, I would like coming home to that nest or that pond everyday, but then have to pick up and move again every winter? That’d be so bothersome. So, if I was used to getting fed at one house and then have to find another? I’d be pretty pissed.”

You thought about his words, piecing together whatever analogy he was trying to prove in your head. You looked over again at the family of ducks only to find them now swimming in the pond together.

Yunho spoke up again after clearing his throat. “What I’m trying to say is: moving on isn’t easy for anyone or anything. It’s a process, and it takes time. Maybe Oli was disappointed in me for not being there, but overtime, I know he found something else. He never stopped moving just because he was hurt by someone.”

Your eyes stayed latched on the duck family that paddled around the lake in a circle. Always moving and still enjoying it. You let a deep breath escape you. “Moving on can be lonely sometimes, though. At least they have each other.”

Yunho nodded, looking out at the vast sea of green grass and trees on the other side of the lake. “It can be. Nobody said you always had to do it alone, though. Birds and ducks and things like that, they're not always alone when they move down South. They always have people that love them by their side, so why can't we?”

You glanced over at Yunho, looking at the small squint in his eyes as he gazed up at the sky; trying to shield himself from looking directly at the sun that was beginning to peak from behind the clouds. His once pink hair had now faded into a light blonde, blowing messily across his forehead. He caught your gaze and stared back at you. That goofy grin pulling at his lips as you turned away shyly; the both of you sharing a brief laugh.

“What?” He asked. “You were staring at me first. I can't look at you?”

“It’s not that.” You chuckled, pulling your lips into your teeth for a moment. “Just trying to figure out when you got so philosophical.”

“There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.” He started moving closer to you. His hands reached up towards your face and used the knuckle of his finger to brush a stray piece of your hair from your forehead.

You only watched him, being sure to not make any wayward movements. His eyes searched your face intently, trying to glean some kind of answer from you. “The one thing you should know though, is that I’m always going to be here with you.”

His fingers caressed down your cheek, stopping at your chin. That same, singular finger tilted your head upwards and pulled you into a soft kiss. Your relationship with him was still confusing, but you never questioned it. It was merely yours. No one else's. No one had to define what you were. You just… were.

Your lips curled up into a smile once Yunho backed away from you. You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them, rocking yourself over to the side until you landed flush against Yunho. Your head tucked just underneath his chin. He adjusted himself closer to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

The two of you didn’t say anything else while you sat there engulfed in one another. Ever since that night the two of you shared, Yunho had not left your side. Of course, he would still give you the space you needed, but when the two of you were together. It really was just the two of you. When he held you like this, you took in the comforting fragrance he had on— smelling similar to apple— and would fall into him with ease. Yunho always possessed this calming energy about him and that's always how you felt. You loved and cherished every moment you spent with him.

There was a warmness growing in your chest. That deep, bleeding, gash that San left on your heart slowly began to close.

계속하다

You had to find Yunho. Your mind slipped the fact that he had miraculously disappeared into the thicket of the party. Jamie also had to be confused as to where you went, considering you had been gone for almost twenty minutes with no correspondence. You checked your phone as you exited the bathroom, hoping for something. Jamie had texted you asking where you were and you quickly responded, telling her that you simply got lost in the magnitude of the hall. But nothing from Yunho.

I’ll undo the lie later. Sorry, Jamie. You said to yourself, clicking off the device and stumbling back into the party. It was just as lively as you had left it, but urgency filled the air instead of the fun you were promised. All you wanted to do was find Yunho and get out of here, and put this whole shit show behind you. So, you continued your search. This time, you called out for him.

You searched the perimeter first. You only found big wigs with their companions sitting at round dining tables with their share of dinner and drink. The ballroom floor was not as crowded now as many had found seats to sit in and were engaging in conversation elsewhere, giving you enough space to trek forward without bumping into anyone.

“Yunho!” You called out, fruitlessly. No answer. You searched amongst the semi-sparse group in the area. Seeing no familiar faces yet. The live band was drowning you out this close up. It would be impossible for anyone that happened to be out of earshot to hear you.

But then a voice called out to you. “Hey! Over here.”

You spun around quickly, a few groups away was Mingi. He raised his drink high in the sky so you could see him and his black and blonde streaked hair, and you sighed in relief. Happy to see a friendly face, even if it wasn’t the one you were hoping for. Beside him were Hongjoong and Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho. Wooyoung and Veronica were missing and- Your heart caved, but rose again from the elated feeling as your eyes landed on the tall blonde.

“Yunho.” you murmured softly.

You quickly made your way over to them, saying your pardons to those who were in the way and squished yourself between the rather large group of men that you had come to call your friends. “Hey everyone. It’s good to see you, y’all look great.”

“So do you. You look like you’ve been running a marathon, though.” Seonghwa said, looking at the guys.

“Yeah, are you alright?” Yunho cooed softly, more concerned.

No. “Yeah! I was just um… Yunho. I’ve been looking for you, everywhere. We think we’re going to head out.”

“Already?” Yunho looked at his watch. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Well-“

“I hope y’all aren't skipping out so soon!” A voice chimed a little bit away from where you stood. “The party’s just getting started.”

A hand clapped around Yunho and Yeosang’s shoulder suddenly and his head jerked to the side to see San rounding around the man’s tall figure. Wooyoung in toe with a jovial grin on his face. Everyone in the group, including you, shifted uncomfortably where they were standing. They were fine when he was with them earlier, laughing and joking like everything was peachy, but that changed now that you were with them. They all knew.

You and Yunho exchanged brief glances before he rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “San.”

He sounded agitated; trying to mask it behind that smooth and cool voice of his. You never really questioned him about his relationship with San. Nor did you ever ask him. You knew he always hung around the guys regardless of if he was there, but the only thing you knew about their situation was that Yunho had moved out with Yeosang a few months prior and San, Seonghwa, and Mingi all lived together now.

“Good to see you, buddy! It’s been a while. You look good. Nice suit.” San almost sounded believable, if it weren’t for the fact that you knew he was pissed at both of you.

Yunho looked at you again, and you stared back at him practically mortified. He squinted at you looking for answers.

Is he the reason you wanted to leave? Yunho seemed to ask through eyes alone.

San didn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence yet, but he knew you were there. He only looked at Yunho, who was trying his best to ignore him. Seonghwa stepped forward towards San, placing a hand on his shoulder like he had done Yunho, and spoke low into his ear, trying to tug him away at the same time. San brushed him off almost instantly.

“Nah, Nah, Nah. Wooyoung and I already had a drink. Three, actually.” He said, trying to recount the number in his head. “Oh! I saw Jamie over there too. She did not look happy to see me. Didn’t even say a word. I would have loved to catch up with her. We were friends once, just like Yunho and I. Right bud?”

He smacked him on the back, and Yunho only shifted slightly in his spot. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, annoyed. Upset. The others looked amongst each other, confused at what was going on, but they knew better than anybody.

“Alright, that's enough.” Yunho said, straightening himself, rising to his full height as he shrugged out of San’s grasp. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe we should get out of here too.” Yeosang chimed up, trying to keep that happy smile he usually possessed. “We have something to do tomorrow morning anyway.”

The group all spoke in agreement with the statement, trying to shift out of the group with San, but he resisted. Suddenly, another body joined the commotion. You looked beside you to see Jamie looking wary of the situation. She looked to you and then Yunho, seeing the visible distress on your faces.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Jamie’s voice was almost in a whisper. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later.” You reached out to Yunho and grabbed the crest of his arm. “Yunho. Let’s just go.”

“It would be really nice if we all had a chance to catch up, really.” San continued. He seemed happy, but his face was just flushed with red and his eyelids lower than before. It was clear that he had drunk much more than he said. But he was coherent enough to cause problems as always.

San finally looked over at you and shivers ran down your spine. He smiled, “You and I did enough catching up. Don’t you think?”

Your stomach turned. Yunho glanced over at you and then back at San. “I think it’s best if you listen to the guys. You need to go.”

“Tell him. We had a lot of fun catching up a little bit ago didn’t we?” San took a step towards you and Yunho quickly intervened. His frame towering over the both of you, and all you could see was the way he glared at San.

The vein on the side of his neck wriggled beneath his skin. San did not shy from him though. Whatever liquor was running through his system had made him brazen and unafraid. The smile that lined San’s face had dwindled like the flame of a candle at the end of its wax. He took one courageous step up to Yunho who kept his eyes on him the entire time. Hongjoong and Seonghwa tried to pull him back. Jongho told him it wasn’t a good idea and encouraged him to leave, but he shrugged off all resistance. Yunho was unwavering in his defense. You anxiously looked between the two of them and your body moved before your mouth did.

“Yunho. Come on, let’s just go home.” You tried to reach out for him again, but Jamie pulled you back, catching you by the arm.

You looked back to see her sternly shaking her head. The people beside you were beginning to gawk in your direction, whispering to each other about the sudden fuss.

San stepped up to him again until they were mere inches apart. “Yunho. Yunho. Yunho.” He mocked. “Everybody just thinks you’re the greatest guy. Jeong Yunho: can’t ever do any wrong. Can he? But they don’t know, do they?”

Everyone looked around nervously. Your palms were beginning to feel moist with sweat. Your heart pounding against your chest; out of its usual steady rhythm. Jamie even perked up at the comment.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunho snipped.

San’s hand came in contact with Yunho’s shoulder and he pushed him back with just a few of his fingers. Yunho barely budged, his shoulder falling out of its original place before stiffening back. San took another step. “Tell them.”

Hongjoong stepped in, gripping San’s shoulder. “San, man. Don’t cause a scene.”

San ignored him, shaking free of his hold. “Tell them, Yunho.” San had more bass in his voice now. He pushed him again. The look in his eye was almost evil. He pushed Yunho back again, this time Yunho took a step behind him as he did.

San tried to press him again, but Yunho wrapped his large hands around his wrist, stopping him in midair. You could see the pain lurch onto San’s face for a moment as his nose twitched. Yunho bared his teeth and got closer to him, squeezing his fist around his arm. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your fucking hand.”

“Tough guy. Then you’re brave enough to admit that you’ve been fucking the girl I loved behind my back. All of our backs.”

Yunho looked over to you for a moment. There was a brief panic in his eyes, but he hid it well enough. You wanted to help him, but San was relentless. Still, Yunho said nothing, standing firm against San’s sudden aggression.

“So what if I am?” You shuddered. Everyone’s eyes turned to you suddenly. Including Jamie. You could feel her green eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“What?!” Jamie said, “You two- is he serious? Is he telling the truth?”

You turned to her, tears beginning to line your eyes. You couldn’t bring the sound out, so you mouthed “I'm sorry.”

Yunho threw down San’s hand. Seeing him reeling for a moment. “Happy now?”

He started walking away from him, seemingly unfazed, but by the look on his face you could tell that he felt bad for putting the both of you on the spot. Neither of you wanted it to come out this way mere moments from being in your arms again.

San smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, bud. We’re not the only ones who fucked someone else behind someone’s back.” He turned to look at you this time. “Isn’t that right?”

Yunho looked back at him, following San’s mischievous gaze directly to you. Fear overtook you. Your face fluttered with shame as you watched the realization hit him on what happened. He knows. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Let me tell ya’. She tastes just as good as I remembered-“

A few heavy gasps filled the room. Shocked and frightened shrieks left you and Jamie’s mouths as Yunho’s fist cracked across San’s jaw. Completely knocking him off balance. He was so fast that you hadn’t even noticed Yunho lunge at him in the first place. Before you or the guys could scramble to stop either of them from retaliating further, San was already recovering from the punch. He spat out blood that had gathered in his mouth from the sudden appearance of a cut on his lip. He turned on his toes, dealing back the same blow to Yunho’s face despite his size. The hit was much more vicious, sending crimson spattering across his cheek. But he did not stop. He swung blind again. Yunho was fast but San was faster. He stepped back just in time. The crowd backed away as well, scared of the fight ensuing.

“Guys, enough!” You screamed out but they hadn’t heard you, or they did but just didn’t care.

The two of them were scrapping like they were in the streets. One punch more lethal than the last. The once beautifully polished floor was now ruined with the droplets and spatters of their blood. And they didn’t stop, despite the efforts of their friends trying to pull them off of one another. Yeosang and Jongho grabbed desperately at the back of Yunho’s suit. Seonghwa and Mingi tried to grab San. Wooyoung was in the middle and tried to pull them both apart with the help of Hongjoong, but they didn’t budge. It was chaos. They were yelling and the people were screaming, but drawing closer to see the fight while others fled. Somehow Yunho had toppled over San. He straddled him, dealing blow after blow. San tried to fight back but to no avail. You couldn’t watch this anymore.

You fought out of Jamie’s hold on you and rushed into the middle. You moved Hongjoong aside just in time before Yunho cocked his hand back.

Both of your hands latched around his forearm and you pulled. “Yunho stop!”

Yunho quickly craned his neck back to see who had grabbed him. He was completely blinded by rage that he hadn’t even noticed it was you for a second. His cheek had been cut and was bleeding. His bottom lip was also split and there was a small cut above his eyebrow. His hair was a slight mess, leaving a few strands dangling in his face, stuck to his forehead from sweat.

You reached out to touch his face, brushing across his cheek lightly coming in contact with the blood that was dripping. “Please.”

His vision slightly began to clear as the scowl he had on his face diminished and his breathing slowed. Someone came pushing their way through the crowd at that moment. You were sure someone called the police, but it was a lone woman in a long, gold ball gown style dress. Dark hair fell down her slender shoulders and there was a look of annoyance on her face.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Veronica boomed.

She looked down at San who was sputtering and laughing all the same, Yunho who was pulling himself off of him, standing beside you weakly. And then over at you. Veronica’s eyes sparked between yours for a moment and you could see understanding in them. Not empathy, but a realization that this was somehow your fault, which wasn’t too far off in hindsight. All you didn’t calculate was that they would start fistfighting in the middle of the ballroom. Veronica moved over to San, dropping even elegantly, beside him to see how badly he was hurt.

Yunho wiped the blood from his lip with his own thumb before turning to Veronica. “Nice party.” He said before slinking away into the crowd that parted ways for him.

You looked down at San who also watched him leave, trying to sit up slowly on the floor with Veronica and Wooyoung’s help. Bright red bruises were all over his face.

“You were so tired of being miserable alone that you had to bring everybody else down with you. Well, congratulations, San. Now we’re even.”

Jamie rested a hand on the side of your arm, pulling you back the way Yunho had gone. “Come on, he isn’t worth it.”

“Yeah… he isn’t.” You and Jamie followed after Yunho, sure not to lose him again this time.

You had never seen Yunho so angry before. You’ve never seen him snap like that much less hurt anyone in the process. Especially someone he once called a friend. He simply just exploded. Your mind was beginning to run with everything you had heard about Yunho up until this point; trying to comb over every moment you spent together to see if you missed something—anything— that could make his impulsive aggression make sense.

There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.

Believe me when I say: he’s not the guy you think he is.

Did you really miss something? You shook the thought from your mind and continued to chase after him, following his figure as he made his way outside. Jamie called after him, but he didn't stop. His current state was earning him some terrified sideways glances from passersby who were curiously heading inside to see what all the racket was. Yunho had not stopped his trek until he reached the valet who rushed off as soon as he came.

Yunho was pacing back and forth in the still night. The heels of his shoes clicked across the stony pathway as his hands rubbed across his face. You could see now the red marks that were on his knuckles. Some were minorly scraped, but most of them had dark wounds on them. If they would have undergone any more damage, they would have started bleeding even worse. You were happy that you stepped in when you did.

“Are you okay?” You said in a soft whisper as if you were afraid of awakening a beast of some kind.

“I’m fine..” His voice was almost as soft as yours, but without emotion.

“M-Maybe we should go to a hospital or something. Those cuts can get infected.” Jamie suggested.

You nodded your head in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah. Maybe that’s best. Are you sure you're-”

“I said I’m fine.” He snapped. You and Jamie instinctively took a step back. He had never raised his voice at either of you and you could tell that he instantly regretted it, but the anger was still there so he didn't think to apologize for any of it.

“This is my fault.” You spoke up, putting your face in your hands as you plopped down on the steps of the hall. “This wasn't supposed to happen. I’m so stupid.”

Jamie went to comfort you, rubbing her hands across your backside.

“I wasn’t supposed to find out, you mean?” Yunho interjected, his words accusatory.

Lifting your head from your palms you looked at him. He had stopped pacing around now, only stood gawking at you. He looked extremely disappointed, hurt, angry. At you. At San. Probably the world. You deflated on the steps.

“No.. that’s not what I-”

“Do you still love him?” He asked suddenly.

“No!” You said defensively. “No. Of course not.”

“So, you just had sex with him for old times’ sake? Jesus..” He rubbed his hand across his forehead. You sank further.

“Yunho, calm down.” Jamie said. “Let's just hear her out.”

“I’m not hearing anything worth listening to.” Yunho scoffed in disbelief at their current circumstance. “I can't believe this..”

“We just ran into each other while I was looking for you! Everything happened so fast, I wasn't thinking. We were talking, and things got heated, and-” You slowed yourself, trying to gather the right words. “and it happened. I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn't think he would blow up like that after I-”

“After you what?”

Yunho and Jamie had given you their full attention. They were looking at you expectantly, waiting on the next part of your story. Something that would be the final puzzle piece to the mystery of how this whole thing started in the first place. Your eyes found Yunho’s; wet with your tears. You tried to blink them away, but they stung as they fell down your cheeks. You licked them off with your tongue, tasting the saltiness of them.

“After we were done talking… I told him about us.” You said, your voice cracking under the weight. “I told him that I didn’t love him. I couldn't.” Your eyes dropped from Yunho’s, looking into your lap while you toyed with the fabric of your dress. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Both Yunho and Jamie looked at you, eyes wide. Yunho appeared like he was going to speak, but was stopped by the valet who pulled up in his vehicle. The man walked around the car and hesitantly handed the keys to Yunho and stepped away back to his post. Yunho fuddled with the keys in his grasp and tossed them over to Jamie who fumbled them for a moment, but righted herself.

“Why are you giving these to me?” She tilted her head to the side like a bewildered puppy.

“I need to clear my head. You two can head to the house. I’ll pick the car up later.” His tone was more commanding than anything. He started to walk away and you stood to your feet.

“Yunho, come on! We can just talk about this at home.” You pleaded, sounding more desperate than you wanted to, knowing that his leaving was your fault.

“We’ll talk later. Maybe.”

He walked without another word around the line of cars that wrapped around the building. The darkness engulfed his figure until he was completely out of sight. You felt a pain form in your chest; having to catch yourself to breathe through the discomfort. The feeling you felt was similar to someone snatching a stool out from underneath your feet when it was all you had to keep you balanced. A sound louder than tearing metal as you heard your heart shatter into pieces—the same heart that he had helped you mend, had also been destroyed by him. If it weren’t for Jamie who held onto you dutifully, you would have collapsed right there in the dirt. Physically and emotionally exhausted from the night.

Jamie softly touched your arm and motioned for the car. “He’ll be okay, let’s go home.”

The car ride was silent for the most part other than the late night radio that played at a considerably low volume. Your head rested on your arm whilst you stared out the passengers’ side window, letting the wind from outside brush against the dry tear stains on your cheeks. The buildings you drove by whipped past, their shapes melting into one another. Their lights were only blinding for a moment, but it was better than staring down at your phone and hoping that you would get a message from Yunho.

Occasionally, Jamie would peer over to look at you. Maybe afraid that you would take your previous jokes of jumping out of the car in the middle of the freeway more seriously this time. Though, it wasn't something you hadn’t considered. There was so much that you wanted to say to Jamie, but you didn’t know where to start. You knew she was curious, but she didn’t press you for information even against her better judgment.

“Hey.” She started. “About… what happened back there? I hope you don’t blame yourself for all of that. You can’t control people’s actions ya’ know.”

“It was my fault anyway. I provoked San. I… slept with him. What happened between them is because of me.” You admitted, your gut wrenching at the words.

“You didn’t know he would try and pick a fight with him though. Plus, he was drunk. I don’t even think he’ll remember any of it. Well, with the way Yunho left him, maybe he will in the morning.” Jamie sighed, stopping briefly at a red light. “Look, I don’t know how you feel right now in great detail and maybe I’ll never get it, but don’t let this bury you. I’m sad that you felt like you couldn’t come to me with this— believe me I’m shocked, but not as shocked as you think. I just wouldn’t have figured that everything with you and Yunho had gotten as far as it had. I knew he liked you from before San, but-“

You perked up. Turning around to face Jamie in your seat. “He what?”

“He didn’t tell you? Whoops..” Jamie gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well, you kind of already did! He liked me before San?” You prodded for more information.

“Look, hey! I don’t know all the details, but I was friends with Yunho before you, so naturally we told each other everything. Then, when you came along, he didn’t say much, but he told me he liked you. A LOT. Then when you met everyone else, including San, well… the rest was history.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You blurted.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having sex with him?!” Jamie bit back.

You slinked back into your seat. “Fair point. I’m sorry about all of this Jamie. I really wanted to tell you everything from the beginning. It was just so much to unpack, I didn’t know what to say.”

Jamie let out a soft breath through her nose, gearing up the car again as the light changed to green and continued driving down the street.

“I’m not mad at you. More left out, I guess. Trust me, I don’t need to know that two of my best friends were bumping uglies and how or where, but a little heads up would have sufficed.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry…” You reached your hand out towards Jamie’s hand and grabbed ahold of it. “You’re my best friend. You always have my back, and I’m grateful for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. So, what are you going to do about Yunho?”

“I don’t know. I feel like he hates me now.”

“He could never hate you. Maybe he just needs time for now. Don’t give up on him, that boy can’t live without you.”

You nodded and turned to look out the window. “Yeah..I hope so.”

계속하다

Two months later…

Work was just as tedious as always. The boss was getting on your nerves about some paperwork you had already filed a month ago, but he never bothered to check and probably lost it. It was getting late now, you and a few of your other co-workers had been the last stragglers and all you wanted to do was finish up the work you needed so that you could get home. You and Jamie had planned to meet up for dinner at a local tteokbokki spot that you had yet to try, but she was still stuck in Jinju for business. So, you decided to pick up some extra hours at work as well.

You clicked away on your keyboard; unmotivated and robotic in your approach to the case file you were working on. You took steady sips of your energy drink, which was probably a bad idea in the grand scope of things but that was how you got things done nowadays. You barely slept ever since that night, and you couldn’t work well otherwise so you depended on energy shots and caffeine to keep you alert.

Your phone chimed suddenly and you almost knocked over your tumbler cup trying to retrieve it. You scrambled for stability, dropping your head as a relieved, but anxious sigh exited your mouth. Righting the cup, you hurriedly checked your phone only to see a message from some clothing company you shopped at before text you about a new sale. Disappointed, you went to your other message threads, scrolling to his name, which wasn’t far down. Tapping on it, you saw all of the messages you had sent him over the last two months since that night, but there was never an answer. Some of the messages in the beginning were paragraphs, some short and some long. You apologized to him over and over wanting to explain everything. Some were you lashing out in frustration over the fact that he wouldn’t answer you or give you the time of day. The lengths of your text to him dwindled over time. You messaged him about festivals in the area, movies that were coming out soon, or video games you think he would be interested in. You sent texts wishing him well. Texts asking how he was. Still nothing.

Jamie tried to keep you hopeful, telling you that he was just busy traveling or work got in the way, but you knew the truth: he was done with you. Your last message to him was a week ago.

I’m really sorry for everything, Yunho. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I want to fix it. I miss you, but if you don’t feel the same then…I don’t blame you. I’m sorry again, but I don’t think I can go without you anymore. I guess this is goodbye.

Just reading it again felt like someone was using your heart as target practice and you quickly swiped out of the message. You didn’t expect him to forgive you for what happened, at least not right away. But you had not expected complete radio silence either. The way you two had left things wasn’t ideal, and you desperately wanted to fix them with him, but he just wouldn’t let you. Like you said before, you couldn’t blame him for the way things were now. You just wished they were different.

You finished up the last of your work and printed everything out, stuffing it in a manila folder and depositing it in the mailbox on your boss's door for him to check in the morning. You gathered your things and tidied up your workspace. You could do your timesheet later when you were home, you just wanted to get out of here. Saying your goodbyes to your coworkers, you stepped out of the office and took the elevator down to the base floor.

The security guard was mainly the only one in the area, watching over the front desk. The two of you said your goodbyes as well as you stepped out into the night air of Seoul. There was a small trickle of rain, but you weren’t bothered by it too much. You jogged to the end of the street corner and raised your hand for an oncoming taxi to take you home. Once he stopped for you, you climbed inside and let him drive off, telling him your desired destination.

You followed your new set routine with Jamie and let her know that you were leaving work and heading home. Since you two were primarily separated these days for work, it was a good update strategy. She answered within minutes.

제이미

Be safe. Wont be home until tomorrow! Know you didn’t eat anything so I ordered you food. Should be outside by the time you get there. enjoyyyyy ♡

You smiled down at your phone and thanked her. You don’t know what you would do without Jamie. She was probably your only constant in this ever changing world and you loved her for it.

The ride lasted another fifteen minutes and you were outside of your apartment building. You slid the driver cash and thanked him before getting out of the car. The rain was starting to pick up, so you placed your bag over your head and ran to the entryway. You punched in your apartment code and the door buzzed, granting you entry into the nicely decorated and warm foyer. There was a large front desk where two people sat watching monitors. A single overhead chandelier illuminated the space around you in a bright orange, and there was a white carpet that stopped just halfway info the center of the room. The ones at the front desk greeted you kindly as you passed, slightly damp from the oncoming storm, walking further into the building where the first four sets of elevators were for your wing. You pressed the button to go up to the tenth floor and waited as the elevator came down from its last stop. When the machine chimed, the doors opened and a few people stepped off leaving you to enter the elevator alone, which you didn’t mind.

You just had another large space to yourself. The elevator rose higher and higher and you watched each floor change one after another. Finally, the tenth floor came and you skipped off of it. You walked down the hall, spotting your door, which was just in the center. The stairwell was not far from it, and you were reminded that you should start using the stairs more often. There was also a man leaning over the railing, jet black hair blinding you from his face. He had on a dark coat and rings, and looked like he was in deep thought, letting his thumb toy with his body lip. You didn’t really pay him any mind, but you didn’t recognize him either. Probably just another tenant. You came to stop at your door where a bag of food was laid at the foot of the wood. You bent over to pick it up and punched in the alarm lock pin. The door’s mechanism whirred and disjointed. You pushed down the handle to enter and stopped at the sound of your name. Startled, you whipped around. The man had turned around to face you, an anxious glance in his eyes. Your irises adjusted on his face for a moment and your heart dropped into the pits of your stomach.

“Yunho?” You almost had not recognized him without his blonde hair. It threw you for a moment, but more so that he was at your front door. “I didn’t know it was you, you look different.”

“In the flesh..” He straightened himself and cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk?”

Irritation grew in you. “Now you want to talk to me?” You spoke roughly. You didn’t mean to give him an attitude, but a part of you wasn’t sorry for it. He had ghosted you for two months and now he wanted to talk about that night?

“Please.” He said. It sounded more like he was commanding you, than requesting you even in that soft voice of his.

You stared at him and sighed, defeated. You couldn’t be upset at him, no matter how angry you were deep down. You turned and opened the door, setting your things down on the table in the hall and motioned him to step in. He did so without hesitation, walking slowly into the apartment like he hadn’t been here a thousand times over. The both of you kicked off your shoes and you closed the door behind him, letting the air thicken with the sudden tension. It was so thick that it was almost impenetrable. You felt uncomfortable walking around your own home.

You offered him something to drink, but he declined. He instead took off his thick coat, revealing a black short sleeve shirt with some design on it that you could not fully make out. A gold chain was hidden behind the collar that went up to his neck and now glimmered in the light overhead. You walked over to the kitchen island and leaned against it, Yunho sat on the back of the couch, rather uncomfortably due to his long legs, but stayed there anyway.

“I’m sorry for popping up unannounced. I should have told you, but..” He folded his arms. “I had just come off a flight, and it would have been rude if I didn’t answer everything else you sent.”

So, he did see them.

“You ignored everything else anyway. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference.”

Yunho nodded. “I deserved that.”

“So you’ve been traveling this whole time?” You asked, slightly unconvinced.

Yunho shrugged. “Not the whole time, but for most of it. I was in the US for work.”

“I see.”

“Look, it may not mean much now, but I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say to you after everything that happened. I really tried to, but I couldn’t express what I was feeling well enough. I’ve never been good at that stuff. I read everything. Even the last one. It took a lot for me to come see you to say this, but I’m not here to hear you apologize anymore. I’m here to apologize.”

You listened to him, swallowing the thick clump of saliva that was stuck in your throat. “Why now?”

“Because it was wrong of me to leave how I did, twice.” Yunho said. “I tried to forget about you. I was so upset and confused by everything then, and what you said to me only confused me more. I didn’t know what to think. As time went on, I realized that I wasn’t even upset that you and San… you know. I mean I was, for a while, but the more I thought about it, it wasn’t just that. It was because I thought I lost you to him, again.”

“Lost me to him?” You stopped yourself to think. The conversation you had with Jamie in the car coming back to you in waves. “Because you wanted me before he did.”

Yunho’s eyes flickered up to you. “How did you know that? It was Jamie, wasn’t it?”

You nodded. Yunho laughed and shook his head. “Yeah. I wanted to ask you out. He knew it, but he swooped in. The rest well, you know. I have always hated that son of a bitch since then, but for the sake of the friendship, I buried it and the feelings I had for you.”

“So, did you plan to sleep with me that night as some kind of revenge or something?”

“No. Same reason you slept with him: it just happened like that.” Yunho said confidently. It was a dig for sure and you felt it, but he wasn’t wrong.

“I deserved that.” You stared down at the ground, admitting your wrong in the situation.

“I hate to say that I read your last message a little too late. I should have just taken some time and gathered my thoughts and talked to you, but I was being childish, selfish. I didn’t consider how you felt at that time. And I’m really sorry.” Yunho moved off of the couch and started making a beat towards you, slowly. “But I don’t agree with what you said.”

Your eyes returned to his. “What?”

“You said you think this is goodbye. It’s not.” Yunho was only a few steps away from you now. You tried to mesh yourself with the kitchen island. “It can’t be because we’re not saying goodbye.”

Yunho was looming over you now. His size alone was intimidating. The way he gazed down at you through the strands of his dark hair was enough to send a tingle down your back. You had to completely look upwards in order to see him.

“Maybe we should.” You didn’t even believe that, but with everything that had happened between you. Maybe San was right. Maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought. Maybe you didn’t love him. Maybe he didn’t love you. “We don’t need anything complicated anymore .”

“I don’t want anything complicated. I want you.” Yunho placed both of his hands on either side of your body, locking you in the center of the counter. Past images flashed in your head. His scent. That same familiar scent wafting against you. Those eyes that stared daggers into your soul. The way his lips felt against yours. The way his hands caressed over your body like they were searching for something important. “I want to hold you when I want to. Kiss you. Touch you. I don’t want to sneak around with you anymore. I don’t care about anything that happened before. I just want you.”

You shut your eyes for a long moment as he pulled you into him with his words alone. He was so close to you that you were almost afraid to breathe, scared that if it took you too long to think that it could be the very end of this moment entirely. You didn’t want it to end. You wanted Yunho— you wanted to be with him.

“What if I’m not right for you?” You muttered.

“You’re perfect.” Yunho rested his forehead against yours and spoke softly as if he were pleading with you. “I need you, baby. Forgive me.”

You felt yourself unravelin his hands. Your convictions held no weight against the feelings that were churning inside of you again just from being in close proximity with him. The days and weeks without being with Yunho had blended together in a messy, and misconstrued mixture that you had lost track of time. Four years ago, San had stopped the clock on your existence, but Yunho had made time move again. You felt alive with him. Your heart pumped with enthusiasm and longed for your next meeting. Your hand reached towards his face that was now free from the cuts and bruises that you remembered. You ran your thumb over the spot just below his eye, feeling the tenderness of his skin. Traveling down to his lip, remembering where the thin cut was.

“I forgive you..” You whispered back to him.

Yunho did not want to waste more time and neither did you as he took the opportunity to erase the small gap between you. Especially with his wing span, he had no problem scooping you into his arms and crashing into your lips. Your feet had left the ground in a moment’s notice, and you were clinging to him for dear life with your legs flung haphazardly around his small waist. But with his hands gripping onto your ass, you felt stable enough to continue. His lips were exactly how you remembered them. Sweet and soft, fluffier than before, but that fiery passion was the same. Though the kiss was deep and filled with longing, it was only obvious the hunger that underlined every blissful embrace. Yunho carried you off somewhere away from the counter, but you were unaware of where he was headed considering you were handling other matters.

For a moment, your back collided gently with a wall. Yunho pinned you against it, while your fingers entangled themselves in his hair. His tongue pressed against your lips, asking for entrance before you parted them, letting his snake-like appendage traverse the depths of your mouth. You delightfully sucked on his tongue, The sloppy, wet kiss deepening with each go. You mewled approvingly and then suddenly you were on the move again. Yunho kept you steady against him as he pushed through one of the two bedroom doors in the apartment, hoping that yours was the right one.

“God, I want you so bad.” You cooed breathlessly, breaking the kiss for just a moment.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll have me real soon.” His words were smooth, and you felt a twinge between your thighs.

Yunho walked a few more steps into the bedroom. Yunho tossed you on the bed and you laughed slightly as your body bounced from the impact. He was on top of you again in seconds, caging you inside his arms yet again; his fingers digging into the fabric of your linens. His lips collided with yours again, every peck more calculated than the last. One of Yunho’s hands cupped your face, before sliding from your cheek down to your jaw and clasping around it, holding you still while his tongue dived deeper into your mouth. He had a naturally gentle nature, but he could also be controlling when it came to the bedroom and you loved it. He gave you enough power and control for him to instantly take back when it suited him. With his lower half laying flush in between your thighs, he ground himself into you slightly. You moaned quietly against his lips, feeling the stretch of his jeans pressing against your folds. The friction sent waves of sensations through you and you could feel moisture trickling beneath the layers of your clothing.

Your hands scavenged across his body; feeling his biceps, his broad shoulders, the wideness of his back contrasting with his regularly slim build. You fisted his shirt, pulling the fabric free from it being tucked inside of his jeans, feeling the light pop in your palms once it was free. Yunho broke the kiss for a moment, still straddling you beneath him and sat up into the air, removing the bothersome piece of clothing from his body and tossing it away. The true length of him was free. His abs like ripples against the original build of his skin and you couldn’t help, but touch them. Licking against your own lips like you had come across a new meal to divulge in. The only thing that remained were his pants and that singular chain that laid lifeless against his collarbone. Yunho stared down at you the whole time, keeping your attention focused on him.

“This has to come off too,” he commanded, nodding towards your work shirt. You looked down and watched as Yunho fit a single finger into your shirt and popped every last button like it was nothing. Your chest now exposed to the cool breeze, revealing your black bralette. A sigh escaped Yunho’s lips. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

The tip of his fingers grazed against your neck, running down just where the dip of your collarbone met the lining of your breasts. Your skin bristled at his touch. His hand opened and clasped around your throat; thumb digging into your skin just a bit with the applied pressure on your jugular. He pulled you up to him, even though you were a quarter of his height sitting down, and he kissed you again. You shook yourself out of your long sleeved shirt and tossed it aside as Yunho had, not sure where it landed in the room, but you didn’t care. The hand around your throat unlatched suddenly, almost hesitant, and it was already sliding into your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling. You whined out to him, but he didn’t care. It felt good to you, like a juxtaposition to the sweetness of the kiss, and you wanted it to stay there, just a little while longer. You wanted to stay here with him forever.

The next thing you knew, you were undoing the clasp in his pants. Fiddling with the belt strap until you felt some give. It had been so long since you felt him—you wanted to have him devour you from the inside out, digging so deeply inside of you that he may strike gold. To call his name like he was too far away to hear, for him to claim you like you were his. You wanted him. You needed him.

You kissed him harder, erasing the softness from before, but dousing your kiss in hunger and desperation. Through frustrated grunts, and Yunho’s help, you managed to undo the latch on his pants, tugging them off of him. Yunho kicked them off haphazardly, keeping his focus 100% on you.

He grinned between kisses. “You’re so desperate for me to fuck you, aren’t you?”

There was a throbbing between your legs as he said this. A beat that was calling out to him, and you were aching more and more. You nodded, looking up at him pitifully.

He pushed you back against the bed, the look in his eye darker than before. Your breath hitched in your throat as he crawled back on top of you. You searched his face wildly, wondering what he was going to do next.

“Did you miss me?” He asked you softly. His hand copied the same motion as before, caressing your face first, then your neck, your chest, rubbing circles around your breast before he came to your stomach. You winced slightly, not from pain, but a slick ticklish feeling— your stomach caving under his touch.

“I missed you everyday.” You responded.

Yunho seemed to like that answer because a large smile tugged at his lips. He looked down to follow his hand making sure it was going in the right direction then back at you. His slender fingers fit right between the space in your pants and your groins, running over the mound that was concealed to him. You shifted in his grasp and sighed softly. The pad of his finger came in contact with your clit and you jolted slightly, sliding down to feel the wetness ruining your panties. He rubbed there for a while, watching you squirm and writhe beneath him.

“I can tell. You’re already soaking and I barely even touched you yet. You were always such a pretty little whore for me.” Yunho pulled his hand out and brought them up to his lips, tasting your secretions and groaning in approval of the flavor. “You taste so good, baby.”

The sight must have reached something deep in the pit of your stomach because you were even more turned on than before. You wanted him to take you right there. Not feeling embarrassed to show how much you wanted him to fuck you. For Yunho, however, that fact was obscenely obvious.

“Please Yunho,” you begged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Yunho chuckled at your pleas, readjusting himself at the foot of the bed now. “I guess I spoiled you too much before.” He reached down and dug his fingers on the inside of your work pants and tugged you towards him, you yelped as you slid against the framing of the bed, your pants loosening from around your waist and exposing your panties. “You’re such a brat when you’re horny.”

He swiveled your pants off of you completely, raising your hips so that it could help him more. He stared down at you, looking at the wet spot in your panties and the fragility of your body. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip and he smiled, dastardly. Like he was thinking of something. You on the other hand were growing slightly impatient. Your inner walls were pulsating like crazy. Your mind was whirring with all the possible ways that he could fuck you and how horribly you wanted him go do so. The feelings you felt were agony, and you knew he felt them too with the hard-on forming beneath his boxers. You watched now as he rubbed himself dutifully, caressing his size beneath the fabric; you felt a moan coming just from watching him. You went to touch yourself as well, but Yunho smacked your hand away.

“Not so fast princess. You only touch yourself when I say so.” He almost seemed like he was going to bite you the way he spoke so roughly. It did not deter you, but you could see he was irritated. It made you want to press him further.

“So, why don’t you touch me?” You asked in a coy voice.

“Punishment. I may not be mad at you, but it’s the least you deserve for now.” He said, finding the smile in his words again.

“You’re cruel.”

Yunho shrugged. “It’s the way the world works. Since you want to touch what belongs to me so badly, go ahead, but when I say stop. I mean it.”

Your eyes sparkled. Watching Yunho as he freed himself from his boxers, never taking his eyes off of you, who followed the bounce in his girth. It had been so long since you saw his mass, you wondered if he had grown. He looked bigger than before. Your cunt pulsed again. You spread your legs and slithered your hand down to your panties and pulled the moistened fabric aside, letting it crumple between your inner thigh. You ran your hand down the center folds, watching Yunho intently. He was completely in a trance watching you fondle yourself. You played with your clit, circling your fingers around it and moaning softly. Yunho ran his hand along his shaft, pumping himself, eyes locked on your body. You imagined his hand there touching you again, your juices pouring out from you and onto the bed sheets; overflowing like a running sink.

“Shit..” he mumbled under his breath. “Keep touching yourself like that. You look so sexy..”

Per his command you continued, sliding your fingers inside of yourself now and listening to the squelch of your insides. Another hand played with your breasts, grabbing and circling around each of them, giving Yunho a full show, which he seemed to utterly enjoy more than he thought. The two of you stayed like that for a while. The sensation was too good, you thought you would make yourself cum right there in front of him. You shut your eyes for a second and moaned out to the sky, calling for whatever powers there may be, but a hand stopped you from going forward, stealing your pleasure from you.

“You’re such a good girl.” Yunho said in an exasperated voice, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He grabbed one of your legs and pushed it back towards your shoulders as he laid himself into you. You only had a brief moment to adjust as you felt Yunho rub his thick member between your bottom lips, and he watched your face as he did so. He knew you were still sensitive from how you touched yourself just a few moments before and was using that to his advantage. He knows your body too well. He knew what made you tick and that’s what made him dangerous when he was in control. He smacked his girth against your wetness a few times before slipping into you without resistance.

“Oh my god,” Your brow furrowed. Eyes rolling towards the ceiling as the pressure inside of you built up all over again.

The moan you pushed out was loud. Too loud. You thought about the fragility of the walls around your apartment, knowing they weren’t thick enough to contain your passion. You absentmindedly apologized to them, but Yunho didn’t seem to care nor had he ever. He continued pushing himself deeply inside of you, grunting and trying to hold back his own moans. You gripped onto Yunho’s arm that was locked by your head, your nails scraping across his skin.

“Fuck, you feel even better around me than I remember.” He spoke, his voice more scratchy and gravely now.

Then he started to move. His strokes were fluid, but monstrous. Like he was doing push ups inside of you, but letting his pelvis do most of the work. His arms held him upright, bulging as he came down inside of you, plus with him holding the weight of one of your legs on his shoulder as well, he was not sparing a single motion to ensure you felt everything.

“Yun-ah..” you tried to call his name but it fell short with the moans falling through your lips.

“Look at me.” He growled, grabbing your jaw like he had earlier and forcing your gaze to him while he fucked you. “My pretty girl.”

Your eyes were locked on his, but would occasionally be distracted by the gold chain that was bouncing in your face as well. It was hypnotizing, but liberating in the sense that this was your reward for all of your efforts being good for him.

“You feel so good… fuck.” You pleaded, wrapping your other leg around his waist to deepen his strokes.

“Yeah? You miss me fucking you like this?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Use your words baby.” He said with a sly grin, moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and squeezed. “Speak.”

The grip he had on you made you lightheaded. You couldn’t think properly with the way he was fucking you, more less form an intelligible sentence. Suddenly, a small but searing pain rose in your cheek as you glanced back at Yunho who had slightly popped your cheek, forcing you to pay attention to him again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself baby. Talk to me.” He said.

“I missed feeling you inside of me. I feel good with you in me.” You managed to speak through half breaths.

Yunho continued to work his magic, digging himself deeper and deeper inside of you to get you worked up. Your pussy gripped and released him, trying to keep up with his pace; gushing with the juices that he fucked out of you. Your body responded to him so well as if he was the one controlling it. He swiveled his hips and kept his strokes in a wave like motion, whilst he pounded into you, sending bursts of his aggression through your needy cunt and out through your mouth in the form of guttural moans. You held him close, clawing at his back muscles with your nails. Yunho grunted from the pain, but took it anyway. Fucking you harder than before.

Your stomach pulled. You were almost at your limit. The room was filled with the raunchy sounds of your sex, sounding like music to your ears, but probably like a fight to others. Yunho was relentless, pumping into you everything he had without mercy.

“You take me so well, like a good fucking girl.” He huffed, slamming into you forcefully. The jolts could have sent you slamming into the mattress, but they felt good.

Yunho hissed as his pace was beginning to falter. He gritted his teeth and dropped his head on the side of yours, rutting himself into you. You held him still, fingering his hair to calm him as the two of you belched your moans. His skin felt damp to the touch, but so did yours. The heat clung to your bodies from the overexertion. He was starting to sound more desperate. You were hanging on a thread of insanity. Feeling like you were going to burst at any second.

“Yunho, I’m close..” You murmured.

“Hold it, baby..” He struggled to say. “I want us to cum together.”

You nodded, trying to force the feeling down for just a little more. You didn’t want it to end, but you weren’t sure how much more you could take either, which wasn’t much at all. Yunho rolled his hips against you, sliding in out of your bundle with ease. His pace quickened for a moment and you jumped as he cursed out in your ear.

“Fuck!” He bellowed through nashed teeth. He pumped himself a few more times. “I’m about to cum. Cum with me.”

You did not hesitate to listen this time. With unleveled and shaky breaths, your eyes roll closed and you ride out the rest of his orgasm on his dick. The two of you rocking back and forth until you finally burst. You climax on him, and Yunho fills you to the brim with his cum. His groans were muffled as he hid himself in your neck, gnawing at the flesh there like it was something to hold onto. You could feel him flowing into you, covering your insides with his seed. You tried to catch your breath, letting your juices intermingle with the others. You breathed heavily together. Yunho’s back rose and fell in a broken rhythm for a moment before righting itself. He placed a kiss on your neck and sat up, still hovering over you. Your head fell back from the exhaustion.

Yunho brushed your hair from your face and looked down at you with a tired smile. There was a new found glimmer in his eye, and it sparkled much more than the chain around his neck in the light. He said nothing, only stared at you like there was nothing else in the room.

“What?” You asked softly.

He shook his head, softly caressing your hair and face before he spoke. “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat for a second. The two of you exchanged glances and a large, and loving smile was shared between you both. For the first time since you heard those words being said, your heart felt free. No longer locked in the cage you had put it in so long ago as you finally and confidently could mutter those same words back to someone else.

“I love you too, Yunho.”

“I think we should name our kid Oli.” He said suddenly.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, hitting him in his shoulder.

“Ow what?! I’m just saying.”

“You’re so unserious.”

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[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Wild Horses

Part 4

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: I hope y’all like this chapter and I apologize if it took long! Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated, I love hearing y’alls thoughts. Don't be afraid to stop by and say hi and if there are any ideas you guys would like to have in this story, just let me know! And as always, I hope you lovelies have a beautiful day! 💜💜💜 Also I apologize if some of the tags don't go through, I make sure to add each and every one of you lovelies but the tagging system here sucks ass.

Story Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Chapter Summary: 🎶Don't be suspicious.🎶

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, mentions of sexual themes

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂Simon Riley. Simon MOTHERFUCKING Riley. The only man to exist that has managed to accomplish aggravating you in every possible way imaginable. For a woman known to have a great deal of patience, he sure as hell didn’t even need to lift a finger to break that record. Might as well put him in the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘The Most Stubborn Asshole Man Alive’ because you’re pretty sure if you looked up the words stubborn and asshole in a dictionary, his face would pop up.

🍂All you did was help stitch him up from a gunshot wound that could’ve gone way south if not done correctly. And when you tell him to come to you if he has any injures or illnesses because you want to help him, what does he do? What does this asshole of a man do? Insults you! Right to your face! I mean sure it wasn’t a direct insult nor were any of his words particularly insulting, but it was still rude and it offended you.

🍂“Meh don’ bother. I’m a big tough dummy and I eat rocks and tea for breakfast. I don’ need your help.” You mock with a shake of your head and a widened stance, mimicking both the voice and stature of the masked English soldier. The little ‘altercation’ had left you nearly fuming, pushing you to go outside to get some of that chilly night air in order to cool off. “I bet you use Gorilla Glue on all your wounds and call it a day.” You scoff, returning to your original posture. You better pray Ghost isn't lurking around somewhere unless you want your ass beat.

🍂Your dad had always taught you kindness and patience, being the down-to-earth soul he was, but boy was this man absolutely testing the everlasting shit out of you. You almost had to mutter out a small apology in your father’s honor for the obscene and colorful language that fell from your lips. But the more you thought about the absolute 6'4 idiot of a man, the more you became frustrated over it. All that body mass and not a single ounce of a brain. How he has managed to come this far without dying of an infection, you have no clue.

“Hope you like that fucking sour apple Dum-Dum you lollipop thief. You’re lucky I don’t dye your stupid mask pink.” You don't know what came in you in that heated moment but next thing you know you were practically planning your funeral and writing a will of your inheritance for your cat back home. Because if there's one thing you shouldn't do, it's kicking a random metal can just lying around on the street. Let's just say you were fucked because the sound that came out of you was equivalent to the screeching of a dying narwhal. The way the throbbing in your big toe had you clutching the wall and wheezing like a fish reeled right out of the water begging the creator for mercy was enough to produce some sweat out of you. And just your luck, as if the night couldn’t get any worse, Price had heard the noise and went to investigate it. Shouldn't this man have better things to do?

The face you pulled would have risen some concern from your colleagues back at the hospital in the states, a widened smile and pain-filled eyes, and you can’t help but to thank the poorly lit lamp streets for obstructing it. You swear you feel like your head is about to explode from the way you tried to keep it all together. But as Price asked if you were alright, looking over your stiffened and awkward stance, one hand out on the wall and your injured foot crossed over the other, all you could do was nod frantically and let out a wheezed ‘Yup. Finer than frog hair split four ways’. You pray that he doesn’t think you’re constipated or something from the strain in your voice. Coward. I would have faked a fall and had him carry me over the threshold.

Price of course doesn’t get American lingo and has no clue what the fuck you just said but takes it as a yes. Just you wait till he goes back in and tells the others what he heard. The man practically opens up the computer and searches up the phrase that you uttered just to find the meaning, all while the others crowd around. And after scrolling through a bunch of different articles involving different American slang, they collectively decide to learn a bunch of them in order to communicate with you. I lied. Because literally from this day forth, they randomly spit out different words and phrases just to tease your American accent. Actually Soap is the only one who does that………….just Soap.

Anyways……..

When Price finally closes the door behind him, you’re back to gritting your teeth and cursing at the pain in your toe and blaming it for your misfortunes, waiting a couple minutes so as to not run into the captain or the others before hurrying limping back into the building and into your room.

What did I tell ya. Should have just asked for Price to carry you back.

After inspecting your toe as what felt to be broken, you were glad to find out that it was just a grade 1 sprain. As painful as it was, for a successful recovery all it needed was some ice, taping, drugs, and a lot of rest. Rest......right. Like you were gonna get any of that.

Should've just reported it to Price.

Guess you can add one more injury to your list of things that are in the process of healing. The men come back from the mission bloodied and bruised with gunshot wounds, and you…….well you sprain your toe from trying to kick a can of beans or whatever the hell that stupid metal cylinder was filled with.

As if you weren't stressed enough before. Now you had to worry about hiding this tiny injury from the rest of the team to prevent them worrying about you. Also because you don’t want them to start asking questions about how it happened in the first place and find out that a can of beans was the culprit behind it. Hm, sounds a lot like someone else.

When you finally laid in bed that night, drugged out on melatonin and pain killers and wearing an oversized tee and a pair of shorts, you couldn’t stop drumming your fingers against your stomach, your injured foot propped up on a pillow with your big toe wrapped and taped up looking like you borrowed Fred Flintstone’s foot. Now just how were you going to hide that? It’s not like you can just grab a pair of those circus clown shoes or an orthopedic boot or some crutches and hope no one notices. And while you stared up at the ceiling, the drumming of your fingers coming to a stop as you contemplated on the idea while waiting to crash out from the melatonin you took, there is only one thing left that came to mind. So, in one swift motion, you grab the spare pillow closest to you and scream into it. A really long, really shrill scream that would have put the banshees to shame. Yup. You can now say you had officially reached your breaking point.

And what happens when you’re stressed? You have strange dreams, like really strange dreams. I’m talking weird vivid outlandish shit that feel too real kind of dreams. Because when you wake up the next morning, sweat beaded at your forehead, you can only think about the very explicit dream you had last night. The one involving you and the team and a series of very……………how can I say this, rated porn shit. It all felt real, too fucking real, because when you move your legs over to hang off the side of the bed, there’s a tenderness there and well………….everything else that comes with it.

“Yo what the actual fucking shit.” You groan, resting your elbows onto your thighs as you shove your face into your hands and rub at your forehead and cheeks.

How the hell were you going to face the team after waking up from something like that? You could almost paint a picture of the entire sequence as if it just happened, and boy was the image going to be burned into the back of your mind like the searing of a branding iron.

You were embarrassed just thinking about it. Every time you closed your eyes, you were reminded of the way their hands and lips roamed every inch of your body, the way their skin almost burned against yours, the stubble of their facial hair grazing against the sensitive skin that lined your inner thighs and the wetness of their tongues, the sounds of their low grunts and moans that escaped from deep within their chests that mingled with your soft ones as their heated breaths fanned your neck, the sharp smell of metal that paired with the rhythmic swaying of their dog tags as they dangled above you with each movement, and the pulling sensation in the pit of your stomach after reaching your high with each of them.

And then there was Ghost, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, the way he looked you over with disgust while you were on your back when each of them hovered over you. And when he finally stood in front of you, when there seemed to be no one else, glaring down at you from under that mask of his, and uttering one single phrase, 'you harlot of a tart', you woke up. Typical ole Ghost. An asshole in reality and an asshole in dreams.

You needed air, a shower, and a change of clothes, desperately. Price had given you the day off when you finished patching the men up last night. And that is exactly what you were going to do. But first you needed to clean yourself up, preferably with holy water if there was any, and then........well...you needed to get out of this building and get some fresh air because what in the 60s psychedelic orgy was that.

Lazily getting up from your bed, you quickly tie your tangled hair up in a simple bun and slide on a pair of slippers over your fuzzy socks, throwing on your plush Grogu and Mandalorian patterned robe over your sleeping clothes and pulling the hood of your robe over your head to provide extra warmth. Today was a much needed day off after the shit storm that was yesterday. As part of your regular morning routine on the days you didn't work, you grab your other mug that you finally found after rummaging through your things; the one shaped like the head of Kermit the Frog and decide to make yourself a cup of coffee to wake yourself up first and foremost.

Making sure to balance your weight on your uninjured foot, you wobble over to the kitchen, your empty mug in hand and your bottle of pain pills in the other that rattled slightly every time you dragged your feet across the floor. Your eyes tear up as you let out a long and dragged out yawn, squinting in the process which prevents you from seeing just what you were walking into as you place your mug on the countertop with a high-pithed clink.

If you thought today was going to have some mercy on your poor soul........................well you're wrong. Because while you have your back turned to the dining table behind you as you try to start up the coffee machine, you had forgotten that the thing was still broken in the first place, and also the fact that you live with five, now six, other men, and their eyes were now all on you. Girl if you don't turn your ass around-

"Mornin-"

"Sweet baby Jesus!" You nearly jump a foot into the air, spinning around in a frenzy with a wild look to see that the whole crew had been at the dining table the entire time and that you weren’t the only one scared out of their wits.

Did you just say ‘sweet baby Jesus?’ They haven’t heard that one before.

You stare wide-eyed in fright at the men seated at the table, your hair a mess and your heart so close to bursting out of your ribcage you swear you'd have to chase after it as you clutch the counter behind you.

There is an obvious awkward silence in the air as everyone stares at the inharmonious mess that is you and your startled state, curiously eyeing the large Grogu ears that were attached to the sides of the hood of your Star Wars plush robe and your bare calves that peeked out from underneath the hem down to your fuzzy socks that had cats all over it. You're practically following their eyes as they look over to your bottle of pills and your Kermit mug on the counter beside you before looking back at you. Oh to be able to read what went through their heads.

Despite your clashing wardrobe that made him question your taste in attire, there was one thing Ghost had focused on more, one that was obvious to those who knew it, a dainty tattoo of the unmistakable silhouette of a rose along the side of your calf. Was that the same rose off of Depeche Mode's 'Violator' album cover? It sure was, because right in the center of the stem where the rose was cut off, were the words 'violator' in cursive. Be still his heart. Is this man planning a proposal and your entire wedding? He was almost curious to find out what other bands or artists you listened to. Maybe he'll sneak a peek at your playlist-

"Howdy! You eh...........ya look worn slap out......I reckon." Soap smiles, trying to mimic the southern American accent but failing miserably, which only earns a round of groans of agitation at the table as the team roll their eyes. All but König of course, he's just as clueless as you are. He wasn't there when the team were searching up American slang.

You-what? The hell is this man on about?

"Jesus-" Price rolls his eyes at Soap's antics as he goes to take a sip of his coffee.

"......................" You're still mute. Your eyes dart between each of them, your thoughts only replaying the pornographic images of your dream as this sudden irrational fear begins to develop that they might be able to get a glimpse of your thoughts. Make a run for it-

"................Ye awright there wee lass? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally." Soap's smile drops.

You're lookin a bit what?

"Mate, shut up." Gaz whispers to Soap after noticing your disconcerted expression. It was making him nervous, no doubt, and the fact that you weren't saying anything only made it worse.

The whole team were practically waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was stare. Girl either you say something or just take your clothes off and let them have you right then and there on the dining table, bandaged toe and everything if your dream distracts you that much-

"Guten morgen schatz (good morning love)." König sent a wave in your direction to try to ease the tension only to drop his hand back down after seeing that you did not respond. Poor dude is worried you’ve fallen ill and is practically sitting on the edge of his seat, analyzing every detail of your body language and ready to leap to your rescue in case you show any signs of falling unconscious.

Even Ghost couldn't stop the annoyed sigh/huff that escaped, shaking his head at the uncomfortable and nuisance of a situation as he took a sip of his tea, the motion catching your attention. That is when you first noticed that he had the lower half of his mask lifted up to his nose. Was this the first you had seen of part of his face? You found yourself tracing over the outline of his jaw and the cool-toned, medium blonde stubble the color of pale sand after a storm that lined the skin there, following along the curves of his lips and noticing the small scar that traveled down until his words from your dream echoed in your head, the same lips that said to you 'you harlot of a tart'. And as you lifted your gaze to his eyes, you found them narrowing at you. Shit.

"There's uh.......there's a cuppa coffee for you in the fridge there." Price nods towards the fridge near you, hoping that would snap you out of whatever trance you are in. I mean if you don't want it, I'll take it.

"....................." You had this overwhelming urge to puke and the last thing you wanted was to unload your stomach's contents of microwaved pasta right in front of everyone.

"Eh....estas bien amor? (you alright love?)" Alejandro's words pull you out of your thoughts. Oh what I would give to have this man ask me if I'm alright-

Bitch just say something-

“Блядь (fuck).”

Wha-what? That’s not what I meant-

The men quickly give each other a glance from the side of their eye. Did you just blurt something in Russian?

".................sorry what?” You squint with a scrunch of your nose, pulling the collar of your robe over your braless chest as a faint heat rose to your cheeks, utterly terrified to look them in the eye lest you'd get flashbacks. Should've just made a run for it when you first saw them-

More silence, nonexistent chirping of crickets that makes you want to crawl into a hole and decompose. Then there is the sound of someone slurping. Who-NOW WHO'S SLURPING?

"Sorry." Gaz utters a quick apology, dragging his tongue over his lips as he places his cup of tea down on the table.

"The coffee machine is broken love." Price adds.

"I know that." You state with a blink, startling the men on how quickly you suddenly respond as if nothing happened as you shove your bottle of pills in the pocket of your robe before unplugging the machine from the wall and tucking it under your arm.

The team can't help but watch as you leave the area with your mug in hand and the coffee machine in the other, each of them as confused as the next. What in the-

"What the bloody hell was that?" Price blurts out.

"Don' know. Anyone know what's the matta' with her?" Gaz watches you go with concern in his brow.

"Ah dinnae ken." Soap shrugs as he takes a sip of his coffee. "Ah think some nugget-lavvy-heid meid her up tae high doh."

"Mate," Gaz rubs his face. "English-"

"Ah said." Soap translates. "Ah think some eejit has riled her up."

The way Ghost nearly snaps his head to glare at the Scot. Why does he have a feeling he was talking about him in particular? There's absolutely no fucking way-Wait. The lollie. The fucking sour apple lollie. Was that some kind of an insult?

"Well that's a load of rubbish." Price comments. "If ye ask me, she's just knackered from mending yer sorry arses up."

The way Soap, Alejandro, König, and Ghost glare at him.

"Yeh but......why'd she take the coffee maker?"

"She's prolly gonna give it a fix." Gaz answers Soap's questions with a shrug.

Soap sits back in his seat with a pause, pondering on what Gaz had just said before turning to him with a confused look. ".................but ah thowght she's a doctor."

"Fuckin' hell Soap."

By the time that you return to your room, slamming the door behind you, you're already cussing yourself out for acting the way you did back there. Now they definitely were going to think that something was wrong with you. And if they did, what would you say? That you had a dream y'all were playing multiplayer adult twister? No. HELL NO. You'd almost prefer them to think you were a spy and take you out-and I don't mean take you out as in dinner, I mean take you out as in a firing squad take you out. All the waterboarding and the fingernail-pulling in the world could not pry that info out of you. If only that dream did not affect you as much, if only.

Hm. You know what, maybe Ghost IS to blame in all of this. You only get wacky dreams when you're stressed. After all, he was the one who got under your skin, not Soap, not Gaz, nor Price, definitely not Konig, and not even Alejandro.

There was only one other person who ever managed to get on your nerves the first time you got to know them, only one person who never failed to make you roll your eyes every time they opened their mouth: your ex. But even then, at least the two of you got along no matter the snarky comments you made towards each other. And as annoying as he was at times, he always found a way to bring a smile onto your face no matter how hard you tried to hide it. Ghost on the other hand, well…….he’s something else alright. This man literally has you wanting to rip your own hair out and hike to the Himalayas to seek some kind of therapy yourself.

"God I'm such an idiot." You growl between clenched teeth, tossing the coffee machine into the trash before limping around your room with your hands on your hips. You definitely needed to get out of the building or else you just might go mad. And with the men there who just witnessed you at your most vulnerable and natural self, the last thing you wanted was to be within their vicinity. Changing out of your sleeping pajamas, you threw on an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweats, grabbing one of your beanies and tucking your hair into it before throwing on a pair of sneakers. You’re already cracked out on pain meds so you might as well run a few errands while you're out, as well as grab a new coffee machine because god knows that's the only thing that keeps you sane these days. You’re so caught up in the process of rushing to get the hell out of there that you fail to notice the masked soldier standing right beside your door a foot away.

“Holy fucking-!” You jump in your skin, hand clutching your chest once you notice Ghost leaning against the wall in the same exact stance like in your dream. Jesus fucking Christ. “Ghost! I uh did not see you there. You nearly had me rushing to the hospital for heart failure haha.” You laugh nervously through your teeth, trying to maintain your polite manners as to not anger the contracted killer. What the hell is he doing here and what does he want? Sending the man a polite smile in hopes that he would just go about his business, you pull your keys out of your pocket, the jingling of the metal making up for the extreme silence that filled the dusty air between the two of you.

“………………………”

Jesus fucking christ. He's just standing there isn't he-

"Uh. Can I help you?” You ask, turning to the man who only stared in your direction, as still as an unused puppet. Only he seems to ALWAYS have something up his ass. At least a puppet talks.

Damn that fuckin politeness of yours, Ghost thought to himself. “......................You're bein’ dodgy." He did not like the way you were acting back there. It was as if you were hiding something. And being the person he was, he found it suspicious.

Oh if he were to see the reason behind it. You're pretty sure it would make his mask blush.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You press your lips together, fixating on your keys in your hands as you try to lock your door.

"Your behavior. You're up to something."

Ah yes. Good ole Ghost. Trusting no one but himself, the little shit-

"Says the one standing right outside my room." You mutter to yourself, cursing under your breath at the way you fumbled your keys and were unable to lock your door due to how he glared at you as if you had put salt instead of sugar in the queen's tea. You bet your bottom you probably looked like a shmuck struggling with something as simple as locking the fucking door. If this dumbo doesn't scram-

"Come again?"

This man was really starting to get on one of your last nerves. “What? Didn't anyone ever tell you it’s rude to lurk outside a lady’s door? You can get your ass tased for some shit like that.” You snark before letting out a quick breath of air at finally getting your key in the lock. One step closer to getting the hell out.

There it is, the real you. Ghost almost can't help the way a slight amusement builds within him at watching you get riled up like this, the faintest hairline of a smirk begging to pull at the corner of his mouth. But despite his little fragment of entertainment from the show of emotion he had managed to string out from you, he had to remind himself the real reason he was here. “The hell are you up to?”

“Nunya.”

“Nunya?” Ghost narrows his eyes, not sure what you were getting at and at the same time not liking where this was going. He swears if this is one of your little tricks-

“Nunya damn beeswax that’s what.”

“What-“ Ghost straightens himself off the wall, hands lowered to his sides. Okay now you were just annoying.

“How was the sour apple lollipop?” You remark, not being able to hold back the snide comment that slipped from your lips. You prayed he would get the meaning behind your little 'token of gratitude' from last night.

You should not have said that-

Bitch I’d become a track star in the fraction of a second-

“You-“ Ghost takes a step towards you but stops from the way you whip your head towards him.

“I know you did it, you little burglar. What, you think I wouldn’t notice that some fish-and-chips-eating crackpot was ransacking my lollipop stash?”

Da foq did you just call him? Ghost is stupefied as he stands there blinking at you, hands ever so slightly tensing. How the bloody hell did you find out? Did you know about the apples as well? Please don't know about the apples- And as he tries to open his mouth to say something, you don't even give him a chance.

“You know, for someone that is known to be stealthy and whatnot, you sure do leave a mess of your Sephora eyeshadow everywhere.”

Oh now you’ve definitely popped a nerve.

“What? You gonna stab me?” You quirk a brow at watching him tense up. “Please, be my guest. Just make sure it’s quick and that I’m officially dead so my student debt disappears.”

Bitch don’t give him a reason tf-

Jesus you talk a bloody lot when you’re nervous, Ghost looks at you confused as he cocks his head back. Well he sure didn’t expect that answer. Doesn't change the fact that he's pissed though.

“You know, you should be glad I didn’t write your Skeletor ass up for not only neglecting medical treatment but also stealing my damn treats.”

“Ye’ve got some nerve ye little tosser-“ Ghost grabs you by your upper arm and yanks you to him as he glares down at you.

Your poor toe-

“Ow! Someone outta teach you some manners.” You sputter, surprised from his sudden and forceful movement. And yet, you can’t help but find yourself flustered at being manhandled no matter how much you tried to preserve your vexation towards him. Ohhh, were you attracted to this? Wait, am I attracted to this???? Nah-

“Yer a real pain in the arse you know that.” Ghost can’t help but to roll his eyes, knowing damn well he did not handle you that roughly to begin with, despite your reaction.

But you and I know it’s just your toe-

“Yeah no shit. I’ve been told.” You roll your eyes in a dramatic manner. “But if you wanna be real, you’re like a bad hemorrhoid if we’re being honest.”

Did you just-

“Whot the bloody hell did yuh just call me?” Ghost snarls as he yanks you even closer to him, your chest bumping into his. Did you just call him a fucking hemorrhoid?

The jerky movement elicits a small gasp from your lips, pried right out of your lungs before you glare back at him with as much as you can muster; your jaw clenched, brows drawn together, and your eyes shooting straight up into his even more menacing ones. You try not to think about those nonexistent slander of words he uttered to you. Dream or not, that shit hurt. And as you think back to the dream you had, you were swiftly brought back to the circumstance right in front of you, immediately aware of the lack of distance between the two of you and the way your chest was pressed up against his.

A heat starts to form in the pit of your stomach, slowly making its way from your core and unfurling out to every inch of your skin, like being brushed over with a velvety feather under the warmth of the sun. His grip on your arm is almost revering if it weren't for its threatening nature as you stare up at him, and you swear you could feel the subtlest shift in his fingers through the thick fabric of your hoodie from the way his thumb ever so slightly grazes across. Your sharp gaze softens, admiring the way the sun's rays from the nearby window lit up his lashes like wisps of gold, like the feathers of an oriole bird soaring over the deep brown valleys that resemble his eyes.

He smelled like last night’s whiskey, a hint of the cigarette he smoked this morning, and his cologne that smells of sandalwood and pine trees. It’s almost refreshing. And in this moment, you don’t even care that you literally look like a teenage boy with your hair tucked into your beanie, wearing a pair of converse and your vans baggie hoodie and sweats. There was only one thing on your mind, one thing only.

“Let go of me.” The only words you managed to breathe out.

“Or what?"

“…………..I’ll scream.”

*cue Princess Leia's theme*

Kiss him. *insert Emperor Palpatine voice* Do it-

You found yourself burning for this innate desire, this need for him to push you against the wall and have his way with you, to have him lift the bottom of his mask and feel his lips on yours, traveling down to the angle of your jaw and your neck and just about everywhere there was you, all of you. Simon had noticed this sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your biceps loosened under his fingers through the course fabric of his gloves, the way your lashes fluttered against the ridges and deep ravines of your irises as you stared up at him with a far-off look that yet seemed so close. Were you-no, can't be.

The way you looked under him appeared to lure him in, not to mention your scent, that same perfume that seemed to have dug its claws into him since the moment he first met you. His eyes now lowered to your parted lips as he found himself focusing on their shape and the short shallow breaths that drifted through, wondering about how they'd feel, their softness, their taste. And as his head lowered just the smallest inch towards you, he noticed once more the small circular scar on the side of your neck. Only this time, he was finally able to make out what it was, and it reminded him too much of his own past. How that scar came about to form on your skin, he had no clue. But it was none of his concern, he had to tell himself. Clenching his jaw, Ghost drew himself back, once again returning to that cold and forbidding presence that was there before.

Actually it’s a good thing you didn’t try to score a smooch. You’d probably just get WWE body-slammed-

“Can I go now?” You clear your throat. “I’ve got chickens to tend to and errands to run.”

"What errands?"

"Why? You gonna help me pick out some zucchinis?" You cock your head back. "Now if you could release that lego grip of yours I'd appreciate it."

Ghost lets out a hmph, the only thing he can do despite his frustration as he loosens his grip just as you tear your arm away from him.

“Thank you." You give him a condescending smile before reaching into your tote bag to grab something while Ghost watches you intently, hoping it’s not another lollie. Lies. Y'all know he wants one-

“Here are your blood results by the way since you refused to stop by my office to go over them.” You slap the papers onto his chest, which earns you another glare from him. “So don’t come whining to me when you don’t understand a thing it says on there.” You snark one last time before heading off to the front entrance.

"Oh and another thing." You turn back around. "I'd cut down on the smoking and drinking if I were you."

All Ghost could do was watch you walk off with the slightest stomp in your step before breathing out a “Fuckin h-“

“Goddamn son a bitch.” You grit your teeth, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie once you step out of the building. You swear that man goes out of his way to annoy the everlasting shit out of you. “Fucking shitbag cumguzzler ass-OH MY GOD!”

You stop suddenly at the sound of a small animal, your eyes wide and mouth hung open as you look towards the ground to see a tiny tabby kitten trotting in your direction from the bushes, it's tail fluffed straight up in the air as it was excited to see you.

“Hi there little guy.” You coo at the small ginger ball of fur making its way towards you before bending down and reaching a hand out. "What're you doing here all by yourself huh?"

The kitten stares at your outstretched hand, giving it a sniff before finally rubbing its head against your palm with its eyes shut. You almost had to bite your tongue from the squeal that just ripped out of your throat. I lied. You did squeal.

“Ahhh omg." Your smiled, your heart swelling at seeing the kitten warm up to you as it came up even closer and lifted its tiny paws to rest up on your bent knees. It was as if you had completely forgotten the mayhem that was today, as if it was just you and this tiny kitten and no one else.

"Oh you’re coming home with me.” You carefully pick up the kitten with both your hands before cradling it against your chest, stroking your tired fingers through its soft and yet dusty fur.

“Mew.” The kitten let out another meow, the small rumbling in his chest vibrating against yours as his pupils widened, nearly blackening out his pale yellow irises as he stared up at you.

“You know what." You gasp. "I shall call you Spot." (Kudos if you know where the name is from.)

“Mew”

“You don't have any siblings hiding out in the bushes ready to jump me and steal my credit cards do ya?"

“Mew.”

“Shit.” You mutter out, your smile dropping as a realization comes to you. How the hell were you going to hide the kitten?

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#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x oc #simon riley angst #simon riley fanfic #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost riley fanfic #soap imagine #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #soap x oc #soap x y/n #johnny mactavish x reader #konig x y/n #konig x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #alejandro vargas x reader #gaz x reader

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hand Necklace (2 of 4)

John Price x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: possessive!Price, jealous!Price, vaginal fingering, biting, marking, dirty talk, rough kissing, established relationship

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

A hand necklace is a reminder that you belong to him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // hand necklace masterlist

Events are not your thing.

You know how and when to smile. You know all the right things to say. But it is draining. Utterly exhausting. You do it for John but sometimes you wish you could stay home and wrap yourself up in bed instead.

When you and John first became involved, you didn’t think the military would have so many fucking events. It’s too many people to smile at and make small talk with. It’s too many forced smiles and people you don’t know shaking your hand when John introduces you.

And now you’ve been abandoned.

Abandoned might be too dramatic of a word, but that is what this feels like. Someone higher than John on the ladder pulled him away, jokingly reassuring you that they’d bring him back to you shortly. But it’s been nearly twenty minutes, and this absence has left John’s spot beside you vacant. It allows others to slither into his territory, to try and fill that role while he’s not around.

It’s not a false fear. It’s happened before. Once, the interaction was so bad, John punched the guy in the face, splattering you and the people standing around with the man’s blood.

“Lovely dress. Looks good on you.” You glance away from staring out across the banquet hall and turn toward the masculine voice.

You don’t know this man, even though his face is vaguely familiar. Did you meet him tonight? Did John introduce him at some point in the evening? It’s hard to say. You’ve meet so many people that their names and faces are all blurring together.

It’s also possible that you’ve met this guy before at another event. John doesn’t like to ever go alone, insistent on dragging you along with him to each function he’s forced to attend.

“Thank you,” you reply hesitantly, your gaze tracking the subtle movements of his face.

He’s smirking in a way that instantly puts you on edge. His pupils are enlarged and his cheeks are rosy like he’s had one too many drinks. This stranger is likely a bit older than you but not close to John’s age.

“Where’s Captain Price?” he asks, glancing around like he’s trying to find John. But he’s not. The asshole uses this as an opportunity to step closer into your space.

You frown, ready to bolt. Until you realize you’re backed into a literal corner.

Fuck.

“I was just about to go look for him. Excuse me,” you say through gritted teeth, attempting to step around this intruder. You’re trying to be polite, mostly for John’s benefit. The people here are his coworkers, and you don’t want to make a bad impression.

“Now, hold on.” He grabs hold of your forearm and tugs a little too roughly.

You stumble into him, nearly spilling your glass of champagne. It puts you dangerously close to an intimate position and your cheeks flame with anger.

Fuck this guy.

Your gaze narrows. “Please, let go—”

“You don’t need to go looking for him,” he says, completely ignoring you. “A man shouldn’t leave a beautiful woman like you alone. Someone might try to take his place.”

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

The guy shrugs as if this is acceptable behavior. “Someone could slip in. Take his place.”

Your grip on your champagne is close to snapping the stem of the glass. “You—”

A shadow appears across the stranger’s face. His gaze shifts to a point behind you, and immediately pales.

“Is there a problem here?” comes a familiar, masculine voice from over your shoulder.

Your shoulders relax, all annoyance leaving you instantly.

The man shakes his head. “Uh. No. Captain. Price. Sir.” He swallows and backs away, turning on his heel and running off like a kicked dog.

You spin around, only to find yourself dangerously close to John’s chest. Your lips part, mouth opening to tell him how happy you are to see him. But there is anger all over his face, and while you know you’ve done nothing wrong, and his anger is for that piece of shit, it still startles you.

Before you have the chance to ease his worry, John snatches the champagne glass from your hand and sets it on the nearby table.

“I am drinking that.”

John ignores you, grabbing your upper arm, and tugging you against him to whisk you away from the room as quickly as possible. He glances over his shoulder, checking the room. Then, he ushers you down a side hallway before turning left into another connecting hallway.

The noise from the party is distant. Far away.

“John—” you protest, and still, he ignores you.

Instead, John turns you around, pressing you against the wall. Your hands go up to rest against the wall, palms flat to keep you stable.

The moment you’re in position, John slides his hand to the front of your throat and wraps his fingers around your neck. He bends you back enough that your lips are just inches from his.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks.

“You,” you reply in a whisper.

“Fucking right, love.” His mouth comes down on yours in a harsh, passionate kiss. There is nothing sweet about it. This kiss is wanton and possessive. An act of ownership.

John pulls back enough to speak against your lips. “I don’t like when people touch what’s mine.” The hand not on your throat slides over your hip and starts to gather your dress up in its fist. “I think some reminders are in order.” Your dress is almost up around your hips when John manages to get underneath it.

“I’m going to start here.” John’s fingers slip under the fabric of your underwear. “By fucking you with my fingers. Have you come all over them.” He parts your pussy, teasing your clit with a few well-placed swirls that already has your cunt clenching.

John’s lips fall away from yours to trace over your jaw, past your throat, and down to your exposed shoulder. “And while I fuck your pretty pussy, your skin will know my teeth.” He gently bites down on the spot just below where his hand squeezes your throat. Then he sucks it sharply into his mouth, turning the gentle nibble into pain mixed with pleasure. He releases his hold, your skin bouncing back into place, buzzing with a throbbing ache.

“You’re mine to mark, and everyone out there is going to fucking know it when I’m done.”

His middle finger pushes in, seeking your warmth.

“This is a promise,” murmurs Price as he begins to pump that finger in and out of you. “That you’re taking my cock later.”

“Fuck. Oh—fuck. John.”

“That’s right, love. Say my name.” John moves to a different spot along your exposed skin, biting and sucking until the spot blooms with a harsh mark. He inserts a second finger, moving steadily, almost leisurely in the way he fucks your pussy with his fingers and brings blossoming sharp pleasure-pain across your skin.

The base of his palm rubs against your clit, and you whimper. Your response earns you a little squeeze of his hand around your throat.

“Quiet. Someone will hear. And I don’t want anyone else knowing how lovely you sound.”

You answer with a soft whine as John switches between pumping in and out of your pussy, and nipping at your skin. While there is an undertone of gentleness, everything about this is a bit harsh, a bit feral, like John is doing this more for him than for you.

Which is fine, because the palm of his hand against your clit is making your head spiral into oblivion.

“That man will never know your touch. Or what your cunt tastes like,” murmurs John against your skin. “Those are only for me, love. Just me.”

You agree with a repressed moan, only to inhale sharply when John presses against your clit in just the way you need.

“Gonna show me how you come all over my fingers?” asks John, squeezing your throat a bit tighter.

You nod frantically, whispering a needy, “please.”

John’s smile unfurls over your skin. He kisses one sore spot softly, and then begins fucking your pussy in earnest, moving his fingers and palm in perfect rhythm with each other until you’re biting down on your bottom lip trying to hold back the sounds threatening to erupt from up your throat.

Keeping control on your body is its own kind of pleasure. You’re following John’s instruction, and he revels in it, murmuring soft praises as your pussy clenches around his fingers and your thighs quiver.

“That’s it,” he coos, helping you through it.

Your entire body seizes, and then you’re melting, knees giving out, but John is right there to catch you. That hand necklace disappears, easing up to stroke down your back only to wrap around the front of your waist.

“Good to go back out there?” he ask.

“No.” You shake your head. Try to swallow. “I—can’t go out there.”

“What do you want?”

“Home,” you answer, licking your lips, turning your head to gaze at John.

John smirks. “We have to walk across the banquet hall to leave.”

“What!” You turn as much as you can and John’s smile is smug.

“If home is what you want. Then it’s home we will go. But first, you’re gonna show off these pretty little marks, yeah? Make sure everyone knows that you’re off-limits. All mine.”

You nod, swallowing down all the nervousness. You belong to John, just as he belongs to you.

He winks and then helps you off the wall. “Let’s go.”

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[psyphigirl]

"May I See Her?"

TW: Immobility, Health Play, Hospital Setting, "Asphyxiation"

A person is admitted to the most advanced bariatric health center, where they must be subjected to constant and intense mechanical medical care

(I'm not sure the tw list is entirely exhaustive as I don't know how to define some of the things I wrote about. Please feel free to give any suggestions you feel I need to include!)

The doctor looked at me as though I had two heads, he just didn't understand the question.

"I- I don't know. There ... there isn't a lot left to see. You didn't really ... leave us with a lot ..."

I had weird mixed feelings about how he said that. Shame, guilt, fear ... pride, wonder, lust. What could they possibly have done to her?

"You can come in about 11.00 on Thursday morning, if you really do want to see her", he said flatly

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be in then."

I hang up and sit back on my bed. I should really be getting to bed soon but I can't bear the thought of going to sleep just yet, so I go in to her old room. Just to remember her.

The room looks so much smaller without her in it. For the first time in years I can actually stand anywhere I want without fear of standing on her flesh or on a cable or tube she needs to function. The room's been stripped almost bare from the kit I used to tend to her. The oxygen pump is gone, the feeding tube has been retired, even the fridges have been wheeled away. I can see an almost perfect outline of her rear on the wall behind her, painted with sweat into the wallpaper. Her mattress is still here, it's been crushed to about a quarter of it's normal height after years of propping up a mass measured in metric tons.

I'm almost glad to see her in a proper care center: All this tech is ancient. Held together with tape and staples. It's a wonder it failed as infrequently as it did...

That's enough remembering for tonight

...

Beep beep beep

That's the alarm. Seven o'clock. Get up, get dressed, go to the kitchen. What's in the fridge? Not a lot. A dozen eggs and half a loaf of toast should be fine. I can fit two slices per slot in the four slot toaster and have them done in two minutes. I can fit three eggs in a pan per two pans. It takes five minutes to cook them and have them done in ten minutes. Hopefully I can have this done before she wakes up-

Oh.

I turn the stovetop off and unplug the toaster. For the first time in years I don't have to center my daily schedule around caring for my helpless other half. It takes about an hour to get to the hospital. So I have three hours to kill ... somehow

...

"Oh, it's you. It- She's right this way"

The doctor lead me down a corridor, with a sign above it reading "ICU". Is it that bad? It must be. I was lead all the way down to the end of the corridor. The very last door in the ICU of the most advanced bariatric care center the fattest country in the world has to offer. I really did a number on her.

"Now. I should warn you. She's very ... fragile. You just need to be careful. Do you understand?"

"Yes, doctor, I think so"

His mouth jerks to the side and he turns away from me. I could have sworn I heard him say "I'm sure"

He opens the door and I see her.

She's nothing more than a mound of flesh, decorated by a spidersweb of wires and tubes, moniters and dials.

"Jeez, doc. Is this all really necessary?"

He looks at me with a subtle and frightening rage, "Yes. If even one of these machines failed, or one of these cables disconnected," he looks almost disappointed, "She wouldn't last long."

I don't respond. All I can do is gawk at her.

"This one here, for example", He gestures to a machine containing a series of combustion pistons, "That's her heart. There's no way her actual heart can pump blood around the rest of her body without assistance."

He points to another one, a pair of pumps under a turbine, "Those are her lungs."

And another, "That's her liver. There's no machine in here that isn't essential to her continued survival. Her body just doesn't work anymore. Technically ... she ... isn't that person in the center of this room anymore. She's ..." He struggles to find his words for a minute, "She's pretty much the room itself"

I take a minute to comprehend what that means. I'm inside her. Staring at her bare soul

"Doctor," I inquire, "Could I be left alone with her for a little while?"

He looks right through me and approaches, "Her diet is automated. Don't think you can do any more damage"

He leaves heavyfooted and disgusted at what I did to her. I almost don't blame him

"Hi dear. Can you hear? It's me."

I wait. I get no response.

"I know you may resent, or even fear me. But you're safe now, love. I can do you no harm. Now that I say it out loud I'm even sure that's entirely true. If that's your lungs, then that tube must be intake. So which tube feeds you the oxygen? This one here? Next to my boot?"

Her heart beats visibly faster.

"That's a yes. What happens if I ..."

I lightly squish the thick clear plastic tube with my heel. The rhythm of the machinery is changed, tarnished even.

Her heart beats visibly faster again.

"I like that response. See it could be fear, couldn't it ..."

I press a little deeper

"Your mouth feels dry. Your temples feel tight. Your lungs, your real ones I mean, are burning. It hurts and you're afraid."

I press a little deeper

"Or maybe. Just maybe ..."

I connect my heel all the way to the floor

"It's lust?"

#extreme feedism #extreme feedee #extreme feeder #healthplay #immobility #death feedee #death feeder #robot girl #berrywrites

[oopsimbug]

in which… y/n is stubborn, and harry is still an asshole

a.k.a. regency harry pt. 2

a/n: gah… i literally dont know what to say… how about: oh my god i am so sorry for taking so long! school, two jobs, a lack of inspiration and literally hating my own writing made sure i was unable to post for an entire YEAR AND FIVE MONTHS!!!! i DEEPLY apologise. i hope this is alright? let me know what you think! and yes, there WILL be a third part, hopefully out before the earth is enveloped by the sun?

pairing: regency era! harry styles x reader, enemies to lovers

summary: again, think little women, but with you instead of jo and harry instead of laurie… but harry is an asshole… a RELENTLESS asshole

warnings: harry is still a GIANT ass, all enemies no lovers, lots of really mean things said to each other, they literally truly hate one another like i have my work cut out for me trying to redeem this couple :’)

word count: 10.8k (smaller than my first chapter, but god did i struggle getting over the 9k mark… i literally hate myself)

read part one here!!

Money…

It was what made the world spin around. 

Unfortunately, the L/ns did not have as much of it as they used to. 

This was why, when their mother needed money to visit their father, who fell very ill, Y/n set out to find a job.

Replacing her mother at her job in the nurse's office wasn’t going to work- she was horrible with sitting still for too long. Besides, her hands were far too shaky to hold silly little fiddly needles. No, there was no chance she would do that. 

She could try to get a job at a shop- a bakery possibly? But no, she had little patience for old people, who were always either very interesting and passionate, which she loved, or very snooty and cold, which she despised with every cell of her being- and unfortunately, the majority of customers were the elderly, who shopped when they had nothing else to do during the day, and they were predominantly of the latter kind. 

Y/n was positively puzzled- stupendously stumped and magnificently muddled. She knew she was talented, but what job would she fulfill that would be of use and make a substantial pay? She pondered that all morning as she completed her chores- tending to the animals and picking up more wood. Once inside, she stoked the fire, made two cups of tea and sat at the dining table. 

“Saf!” she called to her sister upstairs. “Bring your packet and come to the table- it’s 9:30!”

At the age of 13, girls were forced to graduate school. Ma and Y/n, who didn’t believe this was enough of an education, devised a plan- once graduated, the L/n girls would do tutoring sessions with Y/n, who was passionate and proficient in all areas of English, which was what the girls would require the most to function in the world. She would also help with arithmetic- though it was not her strong point, she was confident in the skills they would probably need. Safia was under the tutoring of Y/n, as would Ula the next year. 

As she waited for the pitter-patter of Saf’s feet down the stairs, she thought to herself. Unfortunately, all natural thoughts seemed to lead in the same direction lately- all pertaining to a certain tall and lanky individual with brown hair. She was not moping, that was for sure- Y/n did not mope. She was not even upset about him choosing a different woman over her- that was a fleeting insecure thought held only in the heat of the moment that night. No, she was mad. Furious, in fact. How dare he- how dare he?! He strung her along, purposefully got her hopes up for the mere sake of making fun of her- he embarrassed her and then had the utter gall to smirk and wink about it afterwards! Y/n always had a temper, but this was anger on a whole different level. This was searing, hot, burning, blood-red vexation. Her hands began to ball into fists- she wanted to hit something, break something, hurt him and only him. 

However, before she could fantasise about all the ways she would cause him pain, she felt a soft arm on her shoulder. She must’ve been caught in a trance, unable to hear her sister come down the stairs and call her name once she reached the bottom and found Y/n unresponsive, as Safia’s face held deep concern, eyebrows knit together as she repeated her question. 

“Are you okay, Y/n?” her tentative and soft voice carefully asked, placing a hand on her forehead to check her temperature, ever the sweetheart. “You’re not feeling ill, are you? I know Liz was rid of her sickness a few weeks ago, but it may have lingered around the house.”

She smiled up at her younger sister, who moved her hand to feel her cheek, after finding no suspiciously hot temperature on her forehead. She shook her head and let out a small laugh, all of the rage for him leaving her thoughts. 

“I’m okay Saf… just thinking…” she replied honestly. She was just thinking… thinking of how she would pelt that damned boy with logs of firewood. Or maybe she should let Flynn at him- she had already told the Clydesdale of what had happened. Maybe he could stomp him down till he quivered and shook with fear, begging both of them for forgiv-

“Thinking about what?” Her sister’s voice pulled her out of her reverie once again.

Y/n looked up at her face, smiled brightly, pulled out the adjacent chair and patted it lovingly, before replying with a jolly tone.

“Nothing that you should worry about… Now, are you ready to venture into the world of Hedda Gabler?”

Her sister smiled sweetly before sitting down, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Of course I am!”

“Great! Because today, we are going to be analysing gender and how it influences power within our passage!” Y/n was always so excited to teach her about the books, poems and plays that she liked- there was no way she would teach her sister boring and dull theory, or pieces that only reflected a man’s perspective. No, she had an opportunity to open her sister’s mind and hopefully make a lasting impact on it- one that encouraged her to pursue her dreams without needing the opinion or permission from a man. And she wasn’t going to waste it. 

“Now, open to our bookmarked page, and let’s begin…”

*****

After finishing classes, Y/n got dressed and ran out the door before her sisters could follow her, unable to take all of them to the village on Flynn, and not wanting to upset anyone. She buckled the saddle into place and hopped on before riding the path all the way to town. After tying Flynn up with hay and water, she straightened out her dress and apron and began walking, dodging men who gave her glances of annoyance for her slightly messy loose hair, mussed on the fast journey on the Clydesdale. She had bigger things to worry about, despite what Liz would say…

She was picking up some lemons from the market, which Ula insisted on getting, convinced that they were necessary to her social status in her school, where pickled lemons were the talk of the town. While the need for lemons didn’t sound dire to Y/n, Liz benevolently gifted her extra loose change, justifying it with something about “knowing what it was like to not fit with others at school”. And while Y/n didn’t believe money like five whole dollars should go to waste on lemons, she still searched the shelves intently, looking for some that weren’t too costly. While leaning forward, she walked through an aisle, scouring the lowest shelf for them, unaware of the person she was about to bump into. Curse her clumsiness! 

She walked right into the unsuspecting person before standing to full height, apologies spilling out of her rapidly as she helped the older lady regain balance. Y/n had never seen her before- an older woman, around her own mother’s age, with brown hair that was greying from the roots and forest green eyes that twinkled, reminding her all too much of a certain boy, but she pushed those thoughts away. She also looked of money, with her elegant dress, shoes and shiny jewels.

Y/n began spilling out apologies as it was her own fault for the collision, and the kind lady forgave her each time with a “That’s all right, my dear”, with calming energy radiating from her. Once the two women had settled they let out breathy chuckles at the incident. Beginning to move back to her search for cheap citrus was halted, however, when Y/n noticed the woman seemingly struggling to find what she was looking for. Y/n observed covertly as the lady would gingerly pick up a bottle of what looked to be cologne, look at the label for a few seconds, squint as if to make out what it was saying, before putting it back nervously and repeating with the next. 

Y/n noted that when she would “read”, her eyes didn’t stop to comprehend the words. She needed help, and Y/n was not one to shy away from that fact. 

“Hello,” Y/n began. 

The lady smiled sweetly as she replied, her green eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Hello, love.” she gently replied. 

Y/n wanted to help without seeming patronising, so she was careful with her words. “So, what brings you here, Ma’am?”

She looks around, then down at the glass bottle in her hand before looking back at Y/n. She fumbles and hesitates as she answers.

“Oh- well- I am looking for this shoe polish, but… I seem to be having a bit of trouble…”. She went beet red before she whispered in a meek and quiet squeak only fairies could hear. Fairies or those who had experience with shy sweethearts as Y/n had with her Saf. 

“You-“ she slightly huffed a bitter laugh through her nose. “You probably can already tell, but… I can’t read…” she confessed, thoroughly embarrassed.

If Y/n wanted to help the woman before, her holding cologne that would most certainly tarnish leather while shopping for shoe polish convinced her utterly and completely. She did not hesitate- not even for a beat, determined to show that there was nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all! 

“I can help you! I never use shoe polish- my shoes are always getting muddy anyways, and it would only be a pain to scrub them for nothing, so I don’t have any suggestions in mind, but if you have an idea of the type of polish you wanted, I could help you out!” She dropped personal anecdotes into the conversation, as she often did when conversing with strangers, finding it easier to comfort others to relax around her when they knew she was an open book.

“Oh thank you, my darling! I am looking for a dark brown and black coloured polish that would work best for making leather loafers shiny.” 

And with that, Y/n began her search, starting with going to the correct section, before beginning to scan the tiers of the shelves carefully, looking for what the lady wanted. The woman followed her and began a friendly conversation with her as she searched. 

“My nephew needs new polish for his shoes. I would have told him to do it himself, but he’s out of town, you see. Went out of town, about a week’s trip away. I couldn’t send my maid either- I wished for her to take some time off while there were less people in the house, you see. So here I arrived, figuring I could just find it myself. Ah, how foolish.” She then sighed once more after simmering in laughter for a bit, looking wistfully at another tin she could not decipher the contents of. 

Y/n found the two tins of shoe polish, holding them out to her while responding firmly. “Ma’am, you are not foolish at all. At least you tried! And look, here you are helping your nephew who’s out of town, after letting your helpers take a break! That’s not foolish, that’s compassionate,”.

The lady smiled warmly, the wrinkles next to her eyes crinkling and creasing beautifully as she did. “Oh, darling, you are very sweet for using your gift to help those who cannot. Thank you!” She lightly squeezed Y/n’s cheek playfully before walking to the counter, Y/n following after her before placing the tins on the table for the cashier to process. 

“You are very welcome Ma’am.” The lady began to pull open the small embroidered coin purse she had in her slightly wrinkled yet sturdy hands, fishing for a coin before dropping it into Y/n’s palm and winking. 

Y/n’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hand the coin back. 

“Ma’am, I couldn’t possibly. I was just trying to be of service, truly. Please take your money.” 

But the woman was not having a lick of it. Her face grew stern, her eyes fiery as she quickly snapped back. “Don’t you dare try to give that back, it’s yours!”

Y/n reluctantly smiled and nodded gratefully before walking back to the shelves to continue her search for lemons as the gentle tinkle of the doorbell indicated the sweet lady’s exit. She could not stop thinking about her, however. Why was it that men were taught to read and write and build and farm, but women were only taught how to be good mothers and wives? That woman could learn to read- anyone could, really. All she needed was a teacher… 

Suddenly, Y/n had an idea. One that caused her to drop everything she was doing and run out the door to look for the woman. Teaching! Y/n could teach the woman and in return, get a bit of money! After looking around, she found her walking down the cobbled street, seconds from entering a very expensive and fancy carriage. 

“WAIT MA’AM!” Y/n cried, weaving past the people and carts on the busy street as she ran to her. The lady’s ears perked and she looked back, locked eyes with Y/n and froze with concern, allowing the younger girl to catch up. 

“Yes, my dear?” She asked, once Y/n had caught up and was attempting to catch her breath. After a few deep, embarrassingly wheezy breaths, Y/n finally calmed herself down enough to respond. 

“Icouldteachyou-”, she said exasperated all in one sentence before punctuating it with a heaving breath. After taking a lungful or two of air, she clarified to the poor confused woman.

“Ma’am, I could teach you how to read! If you would like!”

The woman’s eyes opened wider in astonishment before her face brightened with a radiant smile. “You would teach me?” She asked, almost flabbergasted.

“Yes, of course!” Y/n responds, enthusiastically. “I am currently teaching my sisters how to read, so I know how to do it! I could help you too if you would like!”

The woman’s warm and grateful smile shone brighter than the sun. And Y/n’s heart stuttered with excitement when she asked to exchange addresses for further communication. 

This was it… she was finally going to help her family.

******

It was four days later when the L/n residence received two letters, both with express stamps on them, signaling their importance. One was a letter from their father, which the girls were keen to read immediately, but waited for their mother to come home so they could unveil it together. The other, however, was mysteriously addressed to and only to Y/n. How peculiar! 

“Y/n you must open it in front of us- what if it is a secret admirer hoping to eagerly profess their love to you!” Ula whined. Liz shook her head and looked at the youngest girl. 

“If Y/n wants to keep this to herself, she exercises her right to do so”. Liz’ eyes drift to Y/n’s slowly as she continues. “…However…”, before finally running and springing onto her. “You MUST tell us if it is!” 

Y/n rolled her eyes at her sisters, despite Liz’s best attempts to put an end to the “unladylike” and “brash” behaviour. “Come on, there is no way it will be a boy… have you ever even seen me with one? I would run circles around them in every sense before their tiny minds could even get a singular word out!” 

Y/n, though thoroughly believing in her statement that yes, she probably could outshine any boy in the town, also- in the back of her mind- registered that yes, maybe she was overcompensating and exaggerating just the smallest bit in order to shield her heart, still sore from the events of Tilly Hughes’ ball and that wicked boy. Her sisters chuckled at her musing as she made herself comfortable on the sofa chair next to the fire, all three of her sisters huddling behind her in order to get a good view of the elegantly folded and wax-sealed letter that Y/n began to tear open. Once the pristine paper was unfolded, she stood up and began to pace as she read- her sisters giggling and breathing over her shoulder was doing no good, and she needed to focus. It read:

Before Y/n could process the words written on the paper, Liz narrated the letter to Saf and Ula- the latter began to squeal mercilessly, while Liz grinned from ear to ear, pores radiating with pride for her sister. 

*******

The house was astonishing. It was grand, it was elegant, it was pristine.

Above all, it was capital!

The trek down the natural and lush path of trees and fields was all a ruse- Y/n knew Ms Ophelia was a rich woman, but she but any preconceived notion of what her house may look like while trekking the trail was completely, utterly, jaw droppingly decimated. Once reaching the end of the driveway (walking ever so slowly to take the majesty in), Y/n and Flynn were met with pristine hedges that bordered the entire property. Two large white marble columns with oil lamps attached signaled the beginning of the courtyard. In between them, was a large opening where Y/n could see the greenest grass she had ever witnessed, a center hedge path, and behind it, Ms Ophelia’s grand home. Y/n’s mouth was hung open as she approached the large, stark white building, with its covered entrance, wide expanse and huge windows. 

It was a stretch for it to even be called a house. It was a mansion- a manor. Y/n resolved that there must be a plethora of family members that justified the sheer volume of space there was to occupy. She stepped off of Flynn, held the end of his reign, and walked through the grassy courtyard and to the front door. She would have taken Flynn to the stables, not wanting her first introduction to her well-paying student to be interrupted by the attention-hungry Clydesdale, however, the house was so grand she could not even begin to wonder where the hell the stables could be. Instead, she smoothed the light wrinkles out of the frock that Ula picked for her, slightly disgruntled when remembered the lack of a waistcoat she had on. She attempted to fix and flattened the now slightly frizzy hair that Liz had spent almost an entire hour to style, mussed a tad due to the breeze created while riding Flynn, before taking a deep breath in... and rang the doorbell.

She heard some muffled clattering, before hurried footsteps approached, growing louder and louder before they reached the mahogany door, pulled open to reveal a positively ecstatic Ms Ophelia- her brown hair pulled back with a hair pin, but similar in frizziness to Y/n. Her eyes squinting with her warm closed lip smile, the green irises truly dazzling with excitement. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant green and white silk dress, her chest adorned with a single thin gold necklace threaded through a small locket. 

"Y/n!!! So nice to see you!” The lady took Y/n and Flynn in with a charming smile, cooing at the latter before stepping forward to give the Clydesdale a stroke down his white blaze and a scratch on his chin, causing him to preen, closing his eyes a soft huff of pleasure. She then looked to Y/n. “Please, my farmhand Thomas will take this handsome boy to the stables out back."

She looked past Y/n to the front garden and called to the man Y/n hadn't noticed had been planting flowers. He had shiny blonde hair, short from the sides while the top was long and messy, slightly damp with sweat. He pushed the golden mess out of his face and smoothed it back, revealing a bit of dirt on the sun-kissed skin of his forehead. Descending down, there were thick eyebrows, hazel brown eyes squinting in the glare of the sun, a strong nose, and full lips that were pursed and curved into a sweet and friendly smile. He stood, brushed himself off, approached Y/n, and wordlessly took Flynn with a charming smile, nodding to her before walking around to the side of the house. After losing sight of him, Y/n looked back to Ms Ophelia, who opened the door and gestured Y/n in. 

"Please do come in!" As Y/n stepped through the threshold of the house, Ms Ophelia continued. 

"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea- I warmed up enough water for the both of us. How do you take it?" The older woman began walking, Y/n trailing behind her as they entered the beautiful eggshell white kitchen with purple accents.

"Oh, well if it isn't a bother, I take one sugar and only a bit of milk" Y/n watched as the woman poured the boiling tea into the two mugs. 

"Huh!" Ms O looked at Y/n funny, before looking down at the cups she was working on. "Me too! Just enough milk to make it a very dark brown?"

Y/n’s eyes begin to light up incredulously. "Yeah! That's right! My sisters all think that I never put enough in!" 

"My nephew does too!" 

The women looked at each other and smiled- they both knew there was some sort of connection that brought the two of them together, and that they would be kindred spirits. 

*******

The lesson went swimmingly, as agreed by both Y/n and Ms Ophelia (sorry- just Ophelia, the older woman had been very adamant about that). They had sat and begun with the alphabet, and while Ophelia was quite bashful when Y/n corrected her, they knew that with time, they would become more comfortable. Eventually, despite her consistent imploring that she stay for dinner, Y/n insisted she must go home. 

"But my nephew will be home soon! He is such a charming, well articulated boy! Loves reading and the such- You two would get along so delightfully!" She clapped her hands eagerly at the thought, however, Y/n, softly stroking a saddled Flynn- thanks to Thomas, who wordlessly passed her the reins before walking off- looked at her new student and friend with a soft smile. 

"I'm sure anyone who grew up around you would be a wonderful friend, Ophelia, however I really must get home. My family will be expecting me soon."

Once goodbyes had been exchanged, they agreed to meet once again in a few days. And with that, Y/n mounted Flynn and began to ride the now dusky ride home. She may have dawdled a little- the sun was still so warm, and the breeze was beautiful. Flynn moved at a comfy pace as she appreciated the beauty of the world around her. 

However, that beauty was soon not in her focus when Y/n noticed someone riding towards her in the distance. She continued her pace, and as the figure approached, ready to return a polite nod if they were to greet her. As the figure continued on further, she squinted and began to make out a mop of brown hair, and a black blob of a coat, before all too quickly she recognised those sharp green eyes and the nose and those stupidly plush lips as he trotted closer and closer and god- oh no…

Y/n began to feel her stomach drop.

"Well well well! Look who it is!" That snide voice, that blasted smirk that taunted her. 

It was her arch nemesis.

His horse slowed down while she did nothing to stop Flynn, walking completely past him without even acknowledging him- her eyes forward and steely. She thought she had escaped him but she heard footsteps coming closer, however, and soon, Y/n was walking side by side with none other than Harry Styles. 

"What's with the cold shoulder, sweetheart? Have I done something to upset you?" He taunted in a teasing tone. 

"I am not your sweetheart, and don't you have a party to crash, loverboy?" She rolled her eyes and kept moving forward, him keeping an identical pace beside her.

"Ooft, take it easy darling, you’re going to hurt my. Large. Throbbing. Swollen. Red. Hot. Heart!" He punctuated each word with a beat, and Y/n's face became hot; she began to scrunch the sweaty leather reigns harder into her palms at the obvious innuendo. Harry saw this and grinned wickedly for getting to her, a malicious giggle even seeping out of him- he enjoyed this. He enjoyed relishing in her awkwardness. Once his giggles calmed, he shook his head and continued. "What are you doing out so late anyways? Meeting up with a secret lover?" 

Y/n couldn't even dignify that with a response, and merely scoffed and rolled her eyes again at the preposterous accusation. He noticed and continued.

"Hey, you scoff at that now, but who knows. It seems to be the quiet, pure ones that surprise me the most. The most proper girls always turn out to be the dirtiest. So, no- I don't think it's out of this world for a little thing like you to be getting your hands or mouth sullen for a bit of pleasure. Did you see the way you trembled for me the night we met? And the way you cried when I was paying attention to that little French girl? Don't lie, you were charmed, and seeing me with someone else broke your fragile. Little. Heart." 

He was unbelievable for bringing that up again… Y/n felt her rage boiling now. She responded bitterly and slowly. "Please, you are so full of yourself…. And of course you would know all about women and their sexuality, now wouldn't you"

"Hard to scorn someone for being likeable, isn't it, Grumpy?"

Y/n had to stop her horse fully and glare at the idiot. She looked deep into his eyes, calmed down and began to smile. She was in complete and utter disbelief. She shook her head and giggled a peal of bitter laughter. Harry’s face darkened in irritation. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

Y/n’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as her giggles quelled. "It's funny that you think you are likable, Harry. You see, there is a difference between being desirable, and being easy. And it’s only the thoughtless ones like you who seem to be incapable at telling the difference. Not a thought behind those eyes, is there?... I wouldn't be surprised if you'd thought with your cock so much that your brain had atrophied due to the lack of use. You're not likeable, Harry Styles... you're just a plaything for widows and repressed virgins who wish to piss off their fathers to use and discard. And I cannot help but feel sorry for you for being the only one who cannot see that."

If she was not mistaken, Y/n believed she saw a bit of surprise and possibly even hurt in his eyes before they hardened, their playfulness completely drained. She did not think she was going to say that at all, and in any other situation, she would have thought that to be such a mean thing to say... But she had been sitting on that for far too long, and he had pushed her over with the teasing and the cockiness. She had had enough. Harry Styles needed to be brought down a peg or two.

They stared each other down fiercely, neither wanting to stand down. Then, he quickly shot at her. "You are nothing but a poor virgin with a gabby mouth that you wish was stuffed with my cock." he spat with nothing but poisoned malice.

Ouch… He was trying to catch her off guard, an attempt to garner some pride back, and while it immediately hurt Y/n, the wound of embarrassment growing in her heart, she knew she could not let him win. She quickly locked and loaded, before pulling the trigger without thinking. 

"And you are nothing but a dirty harlot who wastes his privilege of manhood on being a tart to women who don't even want him." she spat back at him. 

Targets acquired and shots fired, the two needed to go home and lick their wounds, crudely bandage their bullet holes and hope the sharp pain of the words spoken were only a temporary detriment to their own health, but an everlasting hellscape to each other. Both wanted to see the other in pain. Both wanted to win.

So with that, Harry made a big show about rearing his ashy grey horse up and around, before both of them spurred their horses forward into a gallop and away from the other- both carrying furrowed eyebrows, slightly hurt feelings (that they would never admit to), and a newfound degree of ire for each other…

He won’t get away with this.

********

Once tacking up Flynn, Y/n stomped her way to the house, still unbelievably enraged by the verbal warfare engaged with that brunette ass. She knew she wanted some alone time to calm down, but once entering her cosy home, she was bombarded with questions from her sisters- mainly Ula.

“Was the house big?!”

“What kind of dress was Ophelia wearing?!”

“How many servants did she have?!”

“Did she have lots of paintings on the walls?!”

“Any handsome sons?!”

“Did she tell you if she’s been to any exotic places like France or Switzerland?!”

“How was your day, Y/n?”

The last question was asked, of course, by her angelic sister Safia. Y/n lovingly rolled her eyes at the incessant questions from Ula and answered Saf’s tenderly. “My day was alright Saf, thank you for asking.”

“That’s good- I wished hard on all the dandelions I could find outside that you would come home safe and sound.” Y/n’s heart melted- she walked over to the younger girl and kissed her forehead with so much love and passion.

Ula observed the tenderness of the exchange and rolled her eyes. “Safia is perfect”, she taunted with a roll of her eyes before returning to her previous exercise of pulling up on the septum of her apparently “hideous” small aquiline nose to shape it into a more button nose, which she believed to be more elegant. Y/n looked back at Saf and whispered lovingly in her ear.

“Never stop wishing for the people you love the most, okay Saf?” Y/n gave her one more kiss before moving to the youngest sister with the most spunk besides Y/n herself. She gently swatted her hand away from her nose before lovingly stroking the bridge as she pulled Ula in for a hug from behind.

“And you, little missy! Stop trifling with the features your parents so lovingly passed to you. That nose isn’t a curse, it’s a gift. Treat it as one.” She kissed Ula’s head too before heading further into the house to greet her older sister and her mother. But as they had dinner, Y/n could not stop thinking about how much she hated Harry… little did she know, however, that her older sister Liz observed her suspiciously throughout the night.

Once in their room, hair and teeth brushed, dressed in their respective pyjamas- Liz’s a dainty white nightgown akin to the one Harry so scandalously described, and Y/n’s a mismatched patchwork buttoned set that Ma had made out of Y/n’s old clothes that she was too big to fit into, yet could bear to part with. Tucked into their beds, Liz turned to face Y/n and began.

“If Ms Ophelia was so very nice, what is the problem?”

Y/n turned to face her with furrowed brows. “What problem? There is no problem”

Liz rolled her eyes and shot back. “Yeah yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, Y/n. You can fool Ula- which isn’t saying much, but you can't fool me, so why don't we pretend like I tirelessly needled it out of you and you skip to the bit where you tell me what’s wrong”

Y/n sighed a long, hard, tired and frustrated sigh, before ultimately giving in. “I ran into a sworn enemy on the ride back home today…”

Liz shot up, eyes wide and mouth agape.“Who?!?”

“Harry Styles.”

Elizabeth stared incredulously at her sister, propped her pillows so she was sitting up, and began needling Y/n for more information. “What did he say? What did he do? Why is he your enemy?”

Y/n sighed. There was no way she was going to get to sleep until she told Liz everything. So she began…“You know of his reputation, yes?”

Y/n’s older sister gasped again. “Y/n… don’t tell me… he… with you?”

Y/n immediately understood what she was insinuating. “NO! No way! Never! Not in a million years! You know I hate everything to do with boys. I cannot believe you would think that of me!”

Liz sighed and sunk into herself in relief. “Thank god! I didn’t think you would but… unfortunately his reputation is quite… damning to say the least. Why, it was only last week he was with Amelie… did you see the way he returned her to the group? He didn’t even bother to wipe her lipstick from his lips! What a brute!”

Y/n brought her blanket up even closer to her face until only her eyes were visible, and mumbled her confession. “I know… I told him exactly so today…”

The older sister slowly started at her, tone changing completely to one low and testing. “What...That he is a brute?”

“Yes of course!” Y/n immediately shot back, exasperated.

Her sister stared at her with her mouth agape and eyebrows intensely furrowed. “...WHY?! Haven’t you heard of his family?!?” At Y/n’s confused face and shaking head, Liz took a deep breath and began. His father lives all the way in New York… Ma told me it was because he was absolutely dreadful to his wife and Harry all the time. Kept money from them, abused them, hit them- so much so that eventually they had to run away from him when he was only 10. They fled to a safe place- some cottage in the middle of nowhere? But get this- once there, his mother contracted scarlet fever and passed away. He had to walk all by himself to the nearest village to call for help- by the time medical assistance arrived, his mother was long gone. And with no other relatives bar his wicked father, he was left in the care of his devilishly deviant, yet disgustingly rich aunt.”

Y/n went completely silent. She didn’t know any of this… Of course this was deeply traumatic and saddening- but Y/n could not help it- her stubbornness was a curse, not a gift. And the curse would not allow even a tale so sorrowful allow Harry a free pass. 

“Liz- of course this is deeply tragic and traumatic- however, circumstances can only explain actions. They don’t justify them. What has happened to Harry should mean that he spends his time helping women, not putting them down… which, I guess he does by pleasuring them, but God I wish he wasn’t so smug and pompous about it… He was so- well, not nice, but normal and cheeky and charming, when we first met- it was like a switch flicked in his head and that man no longer exists”

“Of course- if he is as cruel as you say, I 100% agree. Although he has a right to hold trauma, it does not change the fact that he is but a wicked man”

The girls sit in silence for a second, contemplating. Then, ever the know it all, Liz jumped right back into her Styles Family History Lesson, giving Y/n the run down. 

“But anyways, his aunt is apparently a very influential figure! She’s rich beyond belief, and could probably control this entire town with the pulling of some strings and some money, which she most definitely has! Do not fool around with them, Y/n… especially not Harry…” Elizabeth brought her hands up to her temples to sate her sudden headache, a frequent occurrence when having to feel stressed for Y/n whenever she inevitably threw herself into apparently unacceptable situations, such as whistling in public or not wearing gloves, and had no apparent regard for the consequences. 

“What am I to do then?! He is my sworn enemy- if I see him in my general vicinity, my whole body and soul tells me to rip him to shreds! How am I supposed to see him at balls, and on random walks back home, and NOT rip my hair out of my head?!” Y/n complained with a whiny tone.

“Avoid him! Completely and utterly avoid him”

Y/n harrumphed. “...Fine…”

“Good idea- I know… plus… you know what they say.” A lilt of cheekiness entered the previously stern tone. 

“What?”

A wide smile grew on Y/n’s older sister’s face, unable to hide her amusement. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Who knows- maybe he just fancies you? You know… like likes you” 

Y/n immediately threw a spare pillow at her sister’s head and groaned, before burying her hot face under the covers, completely and utterly embarrassed. Elizabeth dodged the stray pillow as she laughed raucously at how annoyed her sister became. 

Y/n shook her head vehemently. “Never in a million years, Liz…”

Never in a million years…

*********

“Make sure you avoid making the “Z” look like the number “three”. Remember, small angled curl, then draaaaaag down to make a bigger and longer angled curl. Other than that, Ophelia, I must inform you that unfortunately my work may as well be over… because these have to be some of the best cursive letters I have ever seen- I know that I have only ever taught my younger sisters, but I am nothing short of confident that you are the fastest learner I have ever had, ever!” 

Ophelia put her hand up to her chest and let out an exasperated breathy laugh that combined a giggle and a sigh of relief. “Stop it Y/n… you nearly gave me a heart attack! Anyways, it’s not that great.” She emphatically waved her hand as if to physically shoo the thought away. “I believe that as long as I am able to write and read, who cares about the blasted handwriting. As long as it is- at the very least- legible, I don't mind a thing.”

Y/n could not emphasise this enough: she loved Ophelia. She was sweet, funny, sarcastic, naughty and brash enough to understand all of Y/n’s jokes as simply that- jokes with no malice. Y/n admired her face thoroughly in amazed silence. Ophelia glanced at her and continued. “Now, would you like a cup of tea before you go?”

Y/n was shaken out of her trance and began to pack up her books as she responded. “No, thank you. I'm okay- I really should get going though. The wind is picking up and as much as I would love to stay and chat, I don’t really think being cold and wet is how my mother wants me to return home!”

Y/n bids Ophelia farewell from inside the house before going out back to meet Flynn at the stables. However, she sees another figure tending to him, and as she arrives closer, she notices not Thomas’ blonde messy hair- but instead a soft brown colour. 

Jesus Christ, this guy will just not leave her alone, will he?!

Y/n is about three feet away when the figure finally turns, and she is once again met with the cheeky smirk of Mr Harlot Styles. He looks her up and down carefully, making her insides all squirmy under his inspection- she hated the way he made her feel so uncomfortable in her own skin. Once finding her eyes, he began. 

“Grumpy…”

“Harlot… Leave Flynn alone. He doesn’t like jaded asses.” Y/n crossed her hands over her chest and stood with a cold hard stare.

“Flynn? Pretty name.” Harry looked at Flynn and continued. “Does the angry little lady dump her frivolous complaints and girly problems onto your poor back, my friend?” Harry looked back to Y/n and continued. “ And hey, he might hate jaded asses, but apparently, he loves temper tantrum-throwing toddlers if he’s your horse.” 

If she didn’t know how horrible of a person he was, she would classify the way he was scratching Flynn’s chin as lovingly- but Harry wasn’t loving, and he certainly wasn’t capable of loving. He was a beast. Just another man who thought Y/n spent her hours with her equine companion complaining as if juvenile… and what the hell are “girly problems”?! 

Harry chimed in again, breaking her out of her frustrated train of thought. “Huh! Would you look at that, Grumpy- your jaded ass-hating “noble” steed’s loyalty can unfortunately be bought by absolute strangers!”

He smirks up at her as he pulls a sugar cube from his pocket and holds it out to Flynn, who eagerly licks it up, jutting his snout into Harry’s hand to spur some more pats out of him. Y/n let out an angry huff. “Greedy traitor…” she mumbled under her breath to her horse, before taking a deep breath and got straight to the main issue, not wanting to spend any longer talking to him than she had to. 

“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”

“God, I was just wondering when I would be in your lovely company again- you know- should I call a doctor for your hysteria? Because it is you, girly, who is consistently following me. I would be surprised due to your incessant reminders that you hate me, but I’m not. Your infatuation with me seeps through your shoddy disguise completely. Face it, Grumpy… you’re obsessed with me.” 

Y/n wanted to slap him so hard. Or at least shoot back some equally damning response, but Liz’s words echo in her ears to simply ignore him. So she simply comes closer, walking to the opposite side of Flynn and begins strapping her bag to Flynn’s side saddle pouch. 

“Your silence is deafening, Grumpy… Is this it? Are you finally admitting that you have been just another precious little schoolgirl obsessed with me this whole time? I bet you would look out your window and pray to every shooting star that floated by that you would see me again. Did you giggle with your little friends while braiding each other's hair about how much you want me? I bet you squirm under your covers in a little pure white virginal nightgown dreaming about my fingers and my tongue and my cock. I bet you're stupidly in love with me, huh Grumpy?”

Y/n hated the way he would describe typically feminine stereotypes with such condescension. She hated being treated like a little girl. Throwing Liz’s advice completely out the window, she couldn’t help but mumble under her breath- just a little something to hurt him. “What would you know about love, Daddy’s boy?…” 

If Y/n looked up from the saddle pouch she was working on, she would see Harry’s eyes blown wide with surprise. He looked so vulnerable- almost childlike- as if her comment transported him back to his father’s house. Before she noticed his silence, though, he schooled his face and began to round the horse, his eyes darkening. “And what would you know about anything? You’re just a pathetic little girl. You act as if you have experience with the world, as if you will be anything more than a boring old housewife, but you never will be…”

Y/n stared daggers into Harry as he stalked closer and closer until he was less than a foot away from her, their outerwear brushing against each other. If he simply wrapped his arms around her waist, their bodies would be flush against one another completely. Y/n had never felt so degraded. She was just another girl to him. She was just another girl to all other men. Her biggest fear was being forgotten- for her loving family- her creative sisters and amazing mother- to be forgotten… For all of the amazing women that she encountered at balls to be forgotten. To be married off and treated as property. 

Harry continues on his poisonous tirade in an unwavering cold and calm voice, striking the deepest of Y/n’s insecurities and fears with pinpoint accuracy. “You look down on my hobby of pleasuring married women, but what you don’t understand is that when you are unhappily married off within the next few years, you will be writing letters to me, begging me to relieve you. You will wish I wanted you… You will wish your husband wanted you… You will wish any man wanted you… You will wish you were special… But you're not.”

Y/n held her breath as his hands raised up from his sides, ringed fingers lightly trailing over her skirts, her waist, her arms, her shoulders. Higher and higher, they softly glided over the fabric of her puff sleeves, before reaching her face, and cupping her cheeks. Harry’s eyes slowly flitted back and forth between Y/n’s eyes and her lips. His brows furrowed and his mouth slightly opened, before lifting his right thumb to slowly pull down at her bottom lip... 

…then release the pressure created with his hold, watching- almost studying, its fullness intensely as it bounced back into place. Voice now barely above a whisper, rumbly and deep, he continues.

“You’re just another silly little girl who will be nothing but a wife someday.”

Harry’s hands moved from her cheeks to her neck, cupping her head, thumbs delicately tracing circles on the skin behind her ears, sending shivers up her spine. 

What was this? And why was it sending Y/n’s knees wobbly? She needs to snap out of it- remember her anger for him. All of her interactions with him, even this one, were merely strategies to throw her off- to dominate her. And she would not allow that.

So as Harry moved his hand to cup her neck, leaning in closer, she opened her mouth, ready to dismiss all logic and decimate the animal standing before her, attempting to kiss her just to intimidate her. Fuck everything- fuck him, fuck Liz’s advice, fuck men and their incessant need for girls to be prim and proper. Fuck all of them.

About to fire her biggest blow, all while he leaned closer and closer, his lips ever so close to touching hers, they were suddenly halted in their tracks by someone calling her name.

“Y/n!...” the voice was urgent but far away. Both Harry and Y/n looked out of the stable to see Ophelia running towards them. Y/n and Harry looked at each other and took a big step away from their close proximity as Ophelia finally reached the stables and held her hand on a wooden panel as she caught her breath, panting heavily. 

“Th-Thank-” A wheezy heave interjected her sentence. “GOD”. Another heave. “You hadn’t left yet!” She stood up straight and wiped the light sweat from her forehead with her wrist before straightening her back and walking closer to her. She raised her right hand, which held a small handkerchief, tied into a lovely little package. 

“I packed some hedgehog slice for you in case you get a little hungry on the way home!” She sighed exasperated, before looking between Y/n and Harry. 

Y/n’s heart melted a little- she came bounding all the way down just to give her a little snack? She was the sweetest woman in the world! And now Y/n was going to see her in action against the intruder to her property that was Harry Styles… Y/n was ready to see some ire and some spit hurled at him once she explained exactly what Harry had said about her and all womankind, really.

But that is not what happened.

Not at all.

Ophelia smiled warmly at Harry before looking at Y/n. “Ahh, I see you have already met my nephew, Harry!”

What. The. Hell?

Harry looked smug as anything as Ophelia continued. “He is the lovely, well articulated bookworm I was telling you about the other day!” 

Y/n gritted out a very hesitant “Nice to meet you…” as he looked at her, full of ego.

Harry then opened his mouth, presumably to tell his aunt about the intrusion that was Y/n’s presence on their land, but Ophelia quickly shut him up too. 

“And Harry, this is the bright and wonderful tutor and friend I was telling you about! Y/n is teaching me how to read and write!” 

Harry’s mouth shut immediately. It was Y/n’s turn to smirk smugly as he gritted out an “A pleasure to meet you” back. The two stared at each other steely, as if they were in a stand-off of the mind, all while Ophelia unknowingly watched on with a large smile. 

“I am sure you too will be fast friends! Don’t you agree?” Ophelia had so much hope in her voice. The two grit their teeth, not wanting to make a scene or displease the sweet Ophelia-

“Certainly…”, they manage to comment, in unison.

And after Ophelia hugs Y/n goodbye one more time, before turning and leaving, Harry tails after her, but not before giving a final glance back to Y/n. He smirked, the smile filled with boyish playfulness, but Y/n saw his eyes- those blasted green eyes clouded with taunt. He was challenging her. To what exactly- she didn’t know. To see who could hurt each other the most? To see who would win in the overall war between the two? Or was it just a smirk at her begrudging fate? That she would have to put up with him now because although Ophelia is a sweet woman, Y/n’s connection to her will never trump Harry’s- he’s her nephew. 

As Y/n saddled her was going to have to do what she wanted to the least in order to maintain both a professional and personal relationship with Ophelia, who she admired both as a student and as a friend…

She was going to have to be civil with Harry.

**********

Y/n believed wholeheartedly that it was punishment enough; that she was forced into both proximity and (at least) faux politeness with her sworn enemy- but evidently, fate had more to give. And damn, could it pack a punch!

It was almost silly that she hadn’t thought the universe had been through with her… When Y/n made the one-hour trip to Ophelia’s house, she just had to not bring her large, rainproof jacket. She just had to decide not to put Flynn’s horseshoes on, which would prevent him from slipping and sliding in the wet mud… Why would she do any of that?! It was perfectly sunny, and even a little bit warm on that Friday morning…

But no… of course, the moment she begins to wrap up her lesson with Ophelia and ride home- where she would tuck into a well-deserved late lunch and spend some time with sisters- of course it is only two days after she has discovered that her student raised and lived with her sworn enemy- it is then and only then that she finds herself stuck at their house, as a giant thunderstorm magically appears and begins raining hellish hail and pouring water from the sky. 

“Y/n, there is no way I am letting you ride home in this weather! That simply will not happen under my roof. I will send an urgent telegram to your mother to let her know you are safe and warm, but you are staying over for the night and that is final.”

There was no arguing with Ophelia. So no more than five minutes later, Y/n was being escorted through the maze that was her student’s mansion, and to a guest room she would be occupying for the night. She was sprawled on the giant, fluffy bed when she felt her skin crawl at a particular thought- though he had not appeared during her lesson, Y/n knew that Harry was somewhere in the house- Ophelia said so herself, as they walked to her room. What if they bumped into one another? 

“Harry is somewhere around here- I am sure that you two will be the bestest of friends- you have so much in common!”

Y/n had to awkwardly laugh and smile at that, agreeing as politely as possible so as to not arouse any suspicion- however, Ophelia seemed to take this for genuine interest though and began doubling down. 

“Hey, why wait until dinner- I can call him now!? Maybe Harry can give you a tour of the house- the gardens, the gallery, the library! Give me two seconds and let me go fetch him-” 

Y/n had never had such a visceral reaction in her life when she shouted a clear and desperate “NO!”... It took her a few seconds to recollect her thoughts before she attempted to save face; she halfheartedly dismissed the idea with a feeble excuse that she didn’t want to impose, and that she and Harry would have plenty of time to chat at dinner. Despite the suspicious glint in Ophelia’s eye, she did not press any further and left her to rest and unpack as she went to have a bath and take a relaxing nap before supper. 

Thus bringing us back to Y/n- sprawled on her bed, deciding that she would not leave the room until supper. There was no way she would risk bumping into Harry while wandering around his house. What if he had another sultry guest for the evening?! What if he shooed her off as if she was nothing but a fly?! Heaven knows he had done all of that before- and all on the same night! She began rummaging through her bag to retrieve her book, content on sitting down and reading as she waited for dinner, but as she rummaged, it dawned on her… 

Her novels, her personal pens and paper? All of them were either at home or in Flynn’s side saddle pouch, hanging in the stables- she had been carrying her personal books and papers for the past few lessons but found the weight quite heavy, and all for very little payoff- she rarely got a moment to read when she was in the middle of a very interactive, collaborative lesson. The reality of her situation collapsed on her as she brought her hands up to her face and let a frustrated groan into them- she was going to be stuck here in this room with no entertainment for the next four hours - Ophelia was occupied, her books and pens were with Flynn, and there were no reading materials in the beautiful yet empty chest of drawers and side tables of the elegant guest room.

There was no way she could sit quietly like this… She began to get cabin feverish already. She needed to get out… 

Harry wouldn’t be strolling about his own house, right? It was 2:30 pm on a Friday- surely there must be some work he had to complete? Y/n resolved that there was no way she would be able to continue to live if she didn’t have something to stimulate her mind, and the thought of passing up an opportunity to explore the various forms of entertainment in Ophelia’s vast house seems daft, even verging on sinful… 

So, with a deep breath, Y/n stretched her arms above her head, took a deep breath, and lifted herself off of the plush linen-covered mattress. She ever so slowly opened the heavy, beautifully intricate mahogany door and peeked out of the minuscule crack she created. 

Left, right, left again, right again. 

The coast seemed to be clear- she opened the door wider so that she could stick her whole head out of it. She looked left, right, left again, right again. You could say that she was maybe overreacting by being so very cautious, but she would rather not run into Harry and be forced to return to her room before she had acquired some entertainment and had a good look around the place.

Once she was completely sure that the coast was clear, she stepped out, gently closed the door behind her, and, with her hands behind her back, began to stroll the hallways curiously. Soon, her fascination with the grandeur of the mansion quelled her alertness and she found herself enamoured by the architecture as she walked down the hallways. 

She wished she could dip her head into every room she saw, but she wasn’t that daft- that would be one surefire way to overstep her welcome, especially when she was essentially stuck until the storm cleared up. 

She continued slinking around in a manner similar to Fennec’s- she took a right, and found herself walking down a hallway she would guess was near the back of the house, as the large windows to her left illuminated her pathway and showcased a beautiful array of pruned trees along a cobblestone path, with steps that led down to a beautiful, large pond filled with greenery. There was a small path that also winded around the pond and ventured into a beautiful, lush green forest. The rain pattered so beautifully onto the glass, creating beautiful shadows on the otherwise dim hallway. The house truly was magnificent. 

Once reaching the end of the hallway, Y/n was greeted with two very tall and wide arched wooden doors. She hoped and prayed she wasn’t about to walk into a personal room, before pushing in to peek at the contents. 

A large expanse of beautiful oak shelves befell her- filled to the brim with books. Books upon books upon books! Nestled so tenderly, they were wrapped in beautiful leather casings. 

Bingo! The infamous library!

Though there was a main seating area in the middle of the room- with comfy juniper green couches that looked a dream to rest upon, there were also many bay windows and little reading nooks to curl up in. Tucked into the corner was a desk, a chair and a reading lamp. In fact, there were lamps all around the room, however, most of the light came from the warm roaring fire that blazed in the fireplace. Y/n could imagine sitting in front of the fire on a pillow, a soft throw around her and a mug of tea between her crossed legs as she read Dickens. 

Y/n wove through each shelf, looking at all the amazing titles there were. There was everything here! Shakespeare and Dickens were classics, to be expected in most regal libraries, but looking closer, Y/n found Bronte and Austen too! Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Hans Christen Anderson’s fairy tales. This place had every book Y/n had ever read or wished to read! 

But something lingered in the back of Y/n’s mind…

If Ophelia cannot read, whose library is this? Who has so tenderly placed every book in alphabetical order, as well as sorted them by genre? Who has spent their time tediously gluing library cards to the inside of the back cover of seemingly every book, and has jotted down when they have been borrowed? Why would anyone ever do that, considering that most of them are read by assumedly the same person, judging by the ever so similar font and pen used to log the date of when the book was picked up and when it was finished?

Before she could finish her thought, the door suddenly opened. Y/n immediately cringed at the situation she was in- she could be caught snooping by Ophelia, oh how mortifying! As the heavy footsteps walked closer and closer to where she was, she weaved through shelves, attempting to find a spot to hide. She tiptoed through before flattening herself against a shelf at the end of the room, far from where the footsteps were heard. The unknown person’s gait was too heavy to be Ophelia’s and- 

Damn! 

If it was not Ophelia, there was only one other person it could be… 

She took a deep, silent breath before creeping her way to the edge of the bookshelf. She went to take a peek and see where the British bastard was, however, when she took one more step and stuck her head out, she was met with his body no more than five inches from hers. 

“AHH!”

“Shit!”

The pair jumped and shrieked for a quick second, not expecting the other to be so damn close. Y/n looked up to see Harry looked down at her with surprise and confusion. Her gaze panned down to his hands, noticing him carrying a brown leather bound book- it was smaller and very worn in. It looked beaten and bruised, like it had been read thousands of times. She couldn't see a title at all, but it wouldn’t matter- the moment he followed her eyes, Harry shoved the book behind his back. Her gaze snapped back up quickly enough to watch vulnerability flash in his eyes, before they set in his usual hardened gaze, infected with scorn.

He barked. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

This wasn’t nonchalant Harry- this wasn't a Harry that was prepared for her attacks. This wasn’t the Harry that used his suave and unaffected demeanour to torment Y/n as he coolly fired shot after shot at her soul. No, this was a more frantic Harry- a more aggressive, threatened Harry. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Y/n explained, her brows furrowing and taking on a defensive tone, hands flying emphatically. 

Harry did not reply at all. The pair stared at each other sharply. It was as if they were having a battle telepathically, staring deep into one another’s unwavering, unblinking eyes, lips pressed shut into little frowns, brows knit, each daring the other to say something more. To poke the bear more. To continue the fight. They stared and they stared until Harry looked her up and down, shaking his head and scoffing, before walking further into the library. 

He seceded first! HA! She won! 

This victory wasn't savoured for long, however- she soon realised how foolish she would look just standing there in Harry’s dust. She didn’t look back to see which way he went and she didn't care- she kicked her body into motion and strode out the front door. Once she was out, however, she pathetically scurried her way back to her room, mortified. Once through the door, she slammed it shut and laid back against the cool wood. She took a couple deep breaths in the safety of the guest room. Now alone, she was able to regain her ability to think.

Harry was holding a book in his hands, before shoving it behind his back? Was he… bashful? What book would have made Harry feel embarrassed?

Further, if it wasn’t Ophelia’s library, there realistically is only one other person it could belong to…

Y/n shook the idea from her head immediately. It definitely couldn’t be Harry’s- not only was he too brutish to read for leisure, but also, the books there were too beautiful, too tenderly cared for- many filled with little annotations. No, Harry could not treat a human decently, let alone a book. He wouldn’t know how! The one in his hand, however. Her heart just couldn’t let that go… 

Maybe that was his? The small, beaten and bruised book. What kind of text would prompt Harry to read it over and over and over again. What words moved him so much that he felt embarrassed to show Y/n. Ofcourse, this was probably for the best- realistically, the pair should both provide as little information of their identities to each other as possible. Less ammunition that way. 

But Y/n, head against the downy pillow filled to the brim with the softest stuffing, lulled by the gentle nose of the lavender oil spritzed on top of the sheets, could not help but innocently wonder if Harry had a favourite book. She always wanted someone to share her love of reading- a simple friend that she could rant and rave to other than her sisters who, despite not possessing the same fire and passion as Y/n when it came to literature, attempted their hardest to understand her speeches and monologues of theory. 

It was not a question- Harry could never be that friend to Y/n…

But God, did Y/n wish that stopped her from imagining a version of him that could be.

#regency!harry #regency!harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles enemies to lovers #regency!harry enemies to lovers #by bug

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer · part 03

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,3k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.)

<previous part | next part> | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

Since the question of marriage came into your life, everything else has receded into the background. Even if you tried to distract yourself, you couldn't focus on anything other than agreements, mergers, potential offers and, most importantly, fears about the future. You wondered whether the Rumlow Family would agree to talk again. If not, what was left for you? You didn't have enough time to learn how to manage your father's business; to master all the functions of the Head of the Family. Besides, you didn't even have the right qualities to become one. 

Unable to concentrate on your work, you closed your laptop. Your gallery was scheduled to host an exhibition soon, and you had been doing your best to give it enough attention, but you gave up after the fifth mindless reading of an email. Having stood by a huge window that overlooked a patch of the city, you let your thoughts wander somewhere to the beginning of your life, or at least to the moment when you began to be aware of it. You reflected on which decision – yours or someone around you – had brought you to this point.

You weren't sure about your father, but your mother didn't want that life for you. When she thought you were old and sensible enough, she would say: Never marry a gangster.

But this life never bothered you. You weren't afraid of guns or blood, and the usual dangers that came with what your father did didn't particularly scare you.

For the first few years of your life you were no different from any other kid. But as soon as you finished elementary school, your parents sent you to a private girls' school in London, where you spent the next six years. At first you thought the prestigious academy abroad was a real opportunity. Only later did you realise what it was really all about. Your mother panicked; she didn't want to let you soak up the darkness and ruthlessness of the world that was your father's everyday life. She believed that there was something inside you already, and that it needed to be nipped in the bud.

But her plan failed. You noticed and understood more than was thought. Sending you to another country didn't get the job done, because when you came home for holidays and long weekends, you seeked ways to absorb as much as possible of what your mother was protecting you from. Your father, on the other hand, seeing your enthusiasm and fascination, secretly allowed you to explore this world, but dispensed it safely. You may not have become an expert because of this, but you were not completely clueless either. You learned a few things.

Your mind swiftly connected your past with the relationship you had with Bucky. You both came from the same background, your father having a good relationship with both George and Timothy Barnes. Despite this, Bucky's and your paths never really crossed. He was six years older than you, so when you finally finished school and returned home permanently, you didn’t see him often.

You wouldn't say that you knew him. You were only aware of his existence, you had heard things about him. You witnessed the assassination of his father and then Bucky just disappeared. He left New York for two years.

And now? You considered an analogy – he was becoming to you what George and Timothy were to your father. You supposed you both had it in your blood; a mutual affection for each other.

Your thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door. A girl named Tracy, who worked in the gallery, entered your office with a big bouquet of hyacinths and white tulips. This sight caught you off guard. 

“Who are these from?” Tracy asked, grinning with excitement. She put the flowers on the desk. 

You raised your eyebrows. “I thought you'd tell me.”

“Courier delivered them.” She looked at the flowers with persistent admiration. You would have given a lot to be able to share her enthusiasm, but you were aware that this bouquet could have meant anything. Like another offer, you thought uneasily. 

Noticing a small piece of paper, you reached carefully between the stems. You didn't expect to know the handwriting; nevertheless, you felt even more anxious.

These flowers are supposed to symbolize an apology. Really. Check that out. 

Sorry.

Your first suspicion fell on Brock. Could it be that he regretted the way he behaved in the pub that day? No one else had offended you enough to send flowers. And even though you still didn't want to have anything to do with Brock, you couldn't get rid of them. The bouquet didn't make you forgive Brock, but it didn't deserve to be thrown away either.

Another sleepless night was no particular surprise, but you felt too exhausted to accept it. Besides, you couldn’t let tiredness affect your next day – you had to be able to think properly, especially now. So having taken something to help you sleep, you lay in the darkness, waiting for the effects.

Until something caught your attention. 

A quiet tap, but you couldn't tell where it was coming from. Immediately afterwards you heard it again. You sat up on the bed, switched on the bedside lamp – which blinded you at first – and looked around. With another tap you realised that it was the sound of something hitting the window. 

You got out of bed and walked there. Because of the moonlight outside, it was bright enough for you to recognise the man standing below. Without a second thought, you opened the window.

“Hi,” Bucky spoke. 

You stuck your head out and smiled; you tried to do it with disapproval, but you had to admit that his presence instantly lightened your mood. And the fact that the scene looked like a forbidden romance of teenagers allowed you to forget about your current problems. “Did you just throw rocks at my window?”

“Would you rather I scream? I can scream.” He lifted his eyebrows with conviction.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

“Actually, I can’t,” Bucky said, and you let out a brief laugh. “I’m too scared of Michael,” he lowered his voice. 

“And that's why you are standing there instead of using the door,” you guessed, causing him to nod. “Do you want me to come down to you..?”

“I can go up to you.” He shrugged casually. 

“Oh, really?” 

Hearing the skepticism in your voice, Bucky shook his head resignedly, theatrically offended by your lack of confidence in his abilities, then moved closer to the wall. You watched him with a kind of awe, certain that he would give up at the last moment. At least, that seemed the most sensible option to you. However, Bucky grabbed onto the drainpipe, and placing his feet on its fixings, began to climb upwards. Your eyes widened. 

On the one hand, you wanted to stop him; to ask him to come back down. On the other, the sight gave you too much joy that you didn't want to take away from yourself.

You moved back to a safe distance so Bucky could slip inside without trouble, and when he was on the final straight, you grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled him into the room. Not that he needed it, but your conscience did.

“Thanks,” he breathed, dusting off his T-shirt and jeans.

The typical coolness of a spring night was coming in, so you closed the window, then reached for your robe and threw it over your shoulders. When you turned your gaze towards Bucky again, you found him by your dresser. 

“So, this is your room,” he concluded, inspecting the scented candle he had grabbed from the top of the dresser. He unscrewed the lid of a small jar and hesitantly sniffed the wax inside. Only then did he glance at the label, frowning. “It's… not how I'd imagined.”

Your forehead creased. “What? My room?”

“Lounge At Night.” Bucky lifted the candle so you could see what he was talking about. You rolled your eyes, snorting a quiet laugh. “You like them? Scented candles?” 

“Mhm,” you answered, watching him with patience. You wondered what he was up to. And why did he come here. 

“I've never thought about your room. I'm not that perverted like-” he cut off suddenly, unsure whether he should mention that.

“Like Brock?” 

Bucky smiled at first, then let out a quiet sigh. Staring at you with something you couldn’t exactly figure out, he chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry if I took away your chance to get married.”

“Wasn't that the plan? To cool Michael’s enthusiasm?” You squinted, the corners of your mouth turned up in an amused smile. “Anyway…” you added more seriously. “I wouldn’t call Brock a chance.”

“Good. Because I’m not really sorry.” He raised his eyebrows, and you cackled again. Talking to Bucky turned out to be a pleasant escape from all the important conversations you've been having lately. 

But you felt uneasy, having recalled the situation in the gallery. “I don't know if he's not up to something. I… got some flowers today,” you said nervously. 

There was some slight change in Bucky's face, which you could barely see in the faint light of the bedside lamp. Sparks of boyish sneakiness flickered in his eyes, but otherwise he remained unmoved. “White tulips and blue hyacinths?” 

You didn't immediately realise what he was actually telling you. But when you did, your brows drew together and your lips parted slightly, but no sound came out except for a single short breath. “Those were from you?” 

Bucky nodded. “What I did was wrong. I left you in that pub without saying anything. I was a bit harsh, too, and you did nothing to deserve it.”

You pursed your lips helplessly. It wasn't that you felt relieved when it turned out that Brock hadn't given you an outstretched hand. You were somehow touched by Bucky's gesture. Not only had he sent you flowers, but – as the little note in the bouquet told – he had made sure they were not accidental.

“Hey…” Bucky began softly, walking up to you. He seemed concerned. “I’m sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” you protested right away. “I didn't expect to get flowers from you, that's all.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face in silence. Just by that expression you could feel the teasing coming. “Is it that shocking? You think I'm that thick skinned?”

“You said yourself you’re not a guy to marry,” you pointed out. “So, yes, such romantic gestures from you can be pretty shocking.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Romantic gestures?” 

“Leave it,” you warned. “I don't often get flowers. That's why I was so moved.”

“I thought men throw themselves at your feet.” Bucky seemed genuinely surprised. 

“Sometimes they do. But they don’t buy me flowers,” you clarified, smirking. “So far you are the only one who has done both,” you reminded him, referring to the situation at the funeral. And although you felt embarrassed at the time, now this event slightly sweetened your memories. “The bouquet was really beautiful. Thank you.” Your mouth curved into a delicate smile. “And for what you did for me in the car that day. And for Brock.”

Bucky's face softened again. At first he gazed at you with mild surprise, astonished by your gratitude. It seemed he wasn't waiting for a thank you, which you didn't suspect him of anyway. “I get you out of trouble, right?” 

“And I don’t understand why you do it every time.”

“I told you, I want to do some good. For a change.” Bucky shrugged. 

“Mhm,” you murmured unconvinced. 

“You're saying I should sit around and do nothing?”

“Well, I’m not your problem, aren’t I?” 

You secretly hoped that you would manage to frustrate him with your tenacity enough that he might finally tell you the real reason. But Bucky appeared completely controlled; without even blinking, he patiently put up with your innocent push. 

“You can become my problem,” he said. If it wasn't for the fact that his calmness impressed you most of the time, you would probably find it annoying. “If Brock gets carried away by his pride, and I think that is what will happen, he won't want an alliance with us.”

“If I marry Brock, our Families won't have a good relationship anymore?” you made sure, putting it into as simple words as possible. Your brain was working at a lower and lower speed - the sleeping pills you had taken a few minutes ago were slowly starting to kick in.

Bucky nodded.

“Why won't your uncle talk to Michael?” You frowned.

“Because that's just a guess. My guess. And all Michael cares about is putting your father's business in good hands. It's the only right way to go, but he believes too much in agreements. He thinks he’ll have Rumlows’ loyalty with their signatures. But he won’t.”

You were again stepping into the sensitive area – topics you would have preferred to avoid, to get away from. But when Bucky shared with you what he thought about it all, you knew you could listen to him for hours.

You had a real intellectual in front of you; a far-sighted strategist with a nose for people. If you hadn't had several conversations with him, witnessed him speak, you wouldn't have suspected him of the brilliant way his mind worked. After all, just a moment ago he had climbed up the drainpipe into your room. He was wearing that leather jacket of his, a bruise from his clash with Brock and healing wounds on his knuckles. There was still a stubble on his face that many might call untidy; you wondered when he'd get rid of it and if he'd do it at all. You remembered that he looked a bit different in the past – much shorter hair that curled shyly into soft waves, always clean shaven. Now he seemed to wear the remains of what he had become in his absence. You didn't know him well enough, you'd never had the chance to get a good look at him, but you were amazed at how much a person can change in two years. 

Bucky watched you, but he wasn't impatient with the fact that you didn't say anything, didn't refer to his last words. He probably understood that you were tired of it all.

You didn't think you could get so comfortable in his company even when you were both silent. And it seemed that Bucky felt the same way – he didn't look for an opportunity to say anything, he appeared completely relaxed, as if you had known each other for centuries.

“Would you like some tea?” You spoke. 

The corners of his mouth turned up. “What about Michael? He told me to stay away.”

“And yet, here you are. Looks like you don’t mind the consequences.” You raised your eyebrows. Immediately, however, the expression on your face returned to the same gentleness of a moment ago. “Like any decent person at three in the morning, Michael is at his place,” you added, sneaking a hint, at which Bucky squinted slightly. 

“In that case…” He sighed. “Tea is fine. If you don't mind the company of degenerates like me.”

“I can handle it.” You pursed your lips to hide an amused grin. 

Keeping as quiet as possible, you led the way out of your bedroom, then up the stairs and eventually to the kitchen. You put the kettle on, then reached into the cupboard for a tin container of tea.

“Where do you keep your cups?” Bucky asked. 

You gazed at him with confusion – you probably expected him, as a man from your environment, to sit back and idly watch what you were doing. And you wouldn't be angry about it, after all, men were in charge of much more important things; they were the providers, bringing home the money they worked hard for all day. 

You blinked. “They’re just above me, but I’ll-”

Bucky stretched out towards the cupboards you mentioned, thus pushing his body involuntarily against yours. He froze for a moment, and the warmth of his torso, which you felt on your back thanks to the thin material of your robe as well as your nightgown, was enough to make a swarm of butterflies go mad in your stomach and a pleasant shiver spread through your body with a hot wave. And even though Bucky moved away, the goosebumps lingered on your skin for the next few minutes.

You turned hastily, pressing yourself to the edge of the countertop at which you were standing, and gave Bucky an almost terrified look – like an animal backed into a corner. He, too, stared at you anxiously; with fear at how such a small, insignificant gesture had caused so much. That was all it took – the glances you gave each other – for both of you to know that there had just been a slight discharge of the electricity that had hung over you from the moment Bucky appeared in your house for the first time.

Bucky glanced at your lips, but quickly looked away, ashamed and even a little concerned about what was going through his mind. You could feel your cheeks burning.

You both flinched when the kettle started to whistle. You hurriedly moved to turn it off – you didn't want to wake up the whole house. Besides, you had to get out of that situation somehow. With a trembling hand, you poured the tea into two cups and filled them with water, doing these things for longer than they required. You were unable to predict what would happen if you looked at Bucky again.

“Why exactly are you here?” you finally asked. You sounded surprisingly calm, considering what happened just a moment before.

“My mom…” he began, and you looked over your shoulder at him. “She wants you and your sister to come to our house for dinner. Claims you two could use some family time.”

Your brows drew together as you were taking in what he had just said. Perhaps it was actually about you and Suzie, or perhaps Mrs. Barnes felt it was your mother who could use some space – after all, she had lost her husband herself, and knew like no one else what it was like. 

You didn't have the heart to say no. “When..?”

“This Saturday.” 

You nodded carefully, still staring at him. You forgot the tea; you both did.

“You could have called. Or texted,” you said, again pushing to find out the truth. This time you were a little more determined about it; mainly because of what happened. “Why are you here?” you repeated.

Bucky clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. His face took on a particularly helpless expression. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

There was silence, and this time it turned out to be much less comfortable. It seemed that you both stopped trusting each other – stopped trusting your instincts. 

The phone in Bucky's pocket buzzed; even you were able to hear it through the silence that surrounded you. He reached for it and, reluctantly taking his eyes off you, focused on the screen. “I gotta go,” he murmured. “Thanks for the tea,” Bucky added, and you glanced at the cups. “I'll see myself out. You go back to bed.”

For a brief moment you thought he wanted to take a step towards you. Eventually you decided it was just a wrong impression, so you didn't react, just folded your arms. Bucky gave you a crooked smile, then he left.

You listened to his footsteps, and when you heard the front door click, you closed your eyes and  let out a heavy, shaky breath.

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @cybereggpastahoagie @buckysgirl01

#mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #mob bucky #mafia!bucky

[ariesbilly]

Everyone knows.

Its not as terrifying or as humiliating as he thought it'd be. Actually; he kind of doesn't feel shit right now. The good thing about getting hit on the head too hard is it kind of fucks up your ability to function.

So everyone knows, but Billy's just sat there with his legs out the back of the Chief's cruiser, neutrally suspended in some syrupy thick slice of space where his broken ribs and possibly cracked skull are just a background thought, and—

And fucking Harrington is here. Because of course he is. Fucking Harrington is everywhere. School. Random backass houses with underage girls. Billy's dreams.

The front of the Hargrove household, walking up with that stupid little frown on his stupid, pretty face. Billy can't even scramble together the thought power to tip his head back and smirk. Make some quip. Just watches him approach; felled prey.

Steve opens his mouth.

"She's fine."

Harrington stops, blinks, brows knitting tighter as he crouches in front of Billy, elbows resting on his own thighs. He always looks like he has no fucking clue what's going on. Its equal parts kind of cute and kind of annoying.

"Okay," Steve answers slowly, head tilting. "Who is 'she'?"

"Max. Max is fine." And he should stop there. He should. But. "She's always fucking fine. He's never touched her. Hasn't even thrown shit at her. Her door doesn't even have a lock."

Billy's does. But its on the outside. Neil installed it their first fucking night here, after letting Max pick which of the two rooms she wanted first.

"Okay," Steve says again, and Billy kind of wants to kick him, but he's also pretty sure he's too fucked to aim right and he's not sure if he can add that embarrassment on as interest for what's still to come.

"I wasn't going to ask about Max."

Billy blinks.

"I also kind of wasn't going to ask if you were okay, but. Only because its pretty fucking obvious you're not."

Its a point Billy has to concede. Cherry Lane is in chaos; cop cars everywhere, broken glass glittering on the lawn like fallen stars, Billy's blood smeared down the driveway and tracked in bootprints across the porch.

Steve holds out a cigarette. Marl Blue, because he's a rich bitch, but the smoke kind of brings Billy back to life a little.

"Everyone asks."

Steve shrugs. "I've kind of learnt I'm not about doing what everyone else does, anymore. Max is obviously fine. I might not be that smart, but I can still figure some shit out. You're the one sitting here dying in the back of Hop's car."

Billy's kind of hating how many points Steve is scoring right now. As soon as he isn't seeing three of him he's gonna even it out.

"Max has enough people in her corner. She doesn't need me there, too," Steve hums, reaching out to pluck a shard of window pane out of Billy's knee with a quick flick of his fingers.

"I figured its about time someone stands in yours."

FIC ANON EVERY TIME I OPEN MY INBOX TO SEE YOU MY EYES LIGHT UP 🤩

it IS time someone stands in billys corner so true 🤧

#harringrove #briana answers things

[nerdieforpedro]

She made me Feel

Din Djarin x plus size female reader

My blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.8k (double the length of the original - because Din thinks a lot)

Summary: The Mandalorian constantly weighs different scenarios concerning the safety of his child and himself. Din Djarin's mind is now riddled with possible ways to interact with you. Can he figure it out?

Warnings: Din is a pile of nervous beskar, Din is also clueless, Peli is a menace to Din, awkward conversations, Din being so soft, mention of blood and injuries, first aid, HANDS, basically fluff (the fluff is back a little?)

Notes: The follow up to He Told Me His Name. Din might be a tad anxious. It's a companion piece to my other fic. I might do one where it shows where they are now. I thought Din's perspective would be good to see. The dividers are by the talented @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Din Djarin - The Mandalorian Masterlist/ Our Journey Across the Star Ocean Series

I wasn’t aware Peli had anyone human working with her, only those damn droids. I first saw her repairing one of them, her hands working skillfully with the wires. I wondered why she was here. Her hands could be doing much more delicate work. She finished with the droid and sent it on it’s way. I asked Peli about her and apparently she normally works with droids and I did state that I only wanted Peli and her approved droids on my ship when I first started getting repairs here.

I couldn’t say then that I didn’t mind if she joined Peli in her work on the Razor Crest. I already can’t deal with Peli’s teasing today as she asks about my interest in her assistant. Grogu has already tested my patience with his tantrums about frogs. I told the annoying woman that my curiosity extended to her because she seems much more sane than you and your army of half-functioning droids. Peli did not take that well. She hit me with one of her wrenches. That will bruise.

When the ship needs maintenance, I keep an eye out for her now and she is always repairing some droid or another. She manages her tools as well, cleaning them, polishing them. Despite the grease and grime, her hands look soft and graceful like the rest of her. I wonder if I should offer to assist her with one of the droid’s repairs? 

Dank ferrnik, Peli noticed me watching her arrange her tools. She’s begun with the comments again… I endured only because Peli agreed to have her work on the Razor Crest now. I don’t give two wookies what Peli says, I have never slobbered like a blerg over anyone. I just…respect that she’s an expert. Similar to me with weapons of my clan. 

This time I managed to say hello. Maker it’s nerve wracking. She may be equally as nervous. She only said hello back and looked at her tools. This is a complete mess. I hunt bounties for a living, talking to a woman is not impossible. Just difficult, small talk is painful. Peli has a smug look on her face. If she wasn’t so well acquainted with my ship and cheap I’d…well I’d threaten to go else where. She is here. I would rather not.

Now we exchange greetings with some pleasantries. About business and droids…the only damn thing those buckets have ever been good for. I was able to say a few sentences to her. She replied with her own. I am unexpectedly happy about this. I want to talk to her longer but not a clue what to talk about. 

Maker, why am I even trying so hard? My only focus should be on my Creed and my foundling. My eyes are always drawn to her, watching her. I thought at first it was similar to one of my bounties. Watching and waiting. I know patience and timing with my jobs as they’re for credits and when I can find it, beskar for our covert but I do not want to wait for her to come over to the Razor Crest. I want to go to her but I realize that a figure clad in armor and weapons head to toe is rather…intimidating. I think I’ll carry Grogu when I go over, that should make me seem less fearsome.

Despite napping, my foundling has proven most useful. We spoke at length about him. For almost an hour, I believe. I find myself less nervous and I believe she is as well. Peli spoke to me outside of the Razor Crest away from my dear mechanic. She’s proposing that I bring her with me. One of the few good ideas Peli has had since I started having this woman repair my ship. 

I waited until my next trip to ask her. I needed to find the right words. I thought I had them but the eluded me after I greeted her and asked how she was. She greeted me with the same smile that she’s given me that last few times I have been here. Maker I hope she’s open to the idea. Seeing her smile daily would be…should…should I be courting her? I feel this strongly about her. I may have missed a few steps in this process. No matter.

“Can I ask you something?” Din is still nervous, but he is slightly less so in the familiar space of the Razor Crest. It’s cold metal echoes his own beskar. The only source of warmth, the woman who he has an important question for. A want, he told himself but was quickly becoming a need. She nods, setting her tools down and wiping her hands on the worn apron she often wears to protect her clothes. He had her full attention. As much as he was worried to have it, he relished in it for a moment before cleaning his throat.

“Sure Mando. What is it?” Thankfully she couldn’t see his face grimace at the nickname. That was for people he wanted to keep at arm’s length, not those he wanted close. It wasn’t something he’d put much thought into as he’d been a Mandalorian since they’d taken him in and been taught their ways. He was certain that only his brothers and sisters in the coven would know his name. His son Grogu had opened his heart to truly caring for another person again. Din had wondered if he was longing for the same type of relationship with her as he saw in his coven between riduurs. Maybe down the line. I don’t even know if I want that now. I just know I’d like her to be with us on our journey wherever we go.

“Would you like to come with Grogu and I? It would be better if we had a capable mechanic with us.” Din stood quietly and waited for her answer. He held his breath and exhaled when she said she would think on it.

“Are you leaving again soon?” She asked him, the delicate hands he watched so often kept folding a corner of her work apron back and forth. He understands the feeling, it’s the same as when he inventories and cleans his weapons and especially his beskar. It’s soothing, he would have found this to be pleasant if it wasn’t his question that had made her need it. A similarity between them, other than a shared soft spot for a certain green child and a large pre-empire craft that they chatted about. “I want to give you an answer but I also want to think about it properly.”

Din nodded and let her be. “I don’t leave again for a few days. Take the time you need.” She didn’t outright say no so there was a chance. As it turned out, she later said yes the day after next. One step forward, she was joining him and Grogu on the Razor Crest. He remained quiet most of the time with her, just happy that she was here with them traveling. 

The small incidental brushes began when they would work in tandem to make repairs to the Crest. The shoulder bumps, her hip bumping his thigh when she would turn slightly to reach for a tool or to maneuver to manipulate wires. He noticed she would move away from him and he was worried that he was crowding her but she mentioned something much worse, “Sorry Mando, I take up a bit of space. I think-“

“No mesh’la you don’t. We just need to figure out a better method to complete the repairs. Please, you are…” I paused. What did I want to tell her? How can I say it? Maker I don’t even know… “You are fine as is. You take up as much space as you like.” Dank Ferrnik….what does that even mean? She turned away from me and I felt like an idiot. This would be the time I don’t bump my helmet on something while fixing this ship.

“Thanks Mando. No one’s ever quite put it like that.” He heard you laugh and his fears were quelled. Thank the Maker you were so understanding. But he worried about what you may have said about yourself. That was when he decided. I don’t think I should hope that we touch anymore. I think I can make it more purposeful. So she’ll know that I find her beautiful and that’s part of courting right? Maybe I should have asked different questions of The Armorer and Paz when I was back on Navarro. No only The Armorer, Paz pisses me off too much and I will not owe him any more than I already do.

At the market, I made sure to touch between her shoulder blades on her back to guide her as Grogu’s pram floated next to us. She didn’t flinch, and I didn’t want to touch lower back because that would be inappropriate. I do wonder…sometimes. But only wonder. 

I began picking up bounties and would need her and Grogu to stay on the Crest to be safe. That doesn’t seem fair, she said she wanted to see the galaxy. I can teach her some self-defense and how to shoot a blaster so I’ll feel slightly better about leaving them alone. Her hands are small in mine, still so gentile, except with a wrench. She was nervous but got the hang of it fairly quickly. We keep practicing until her aim improves. I encourage her every time we make a stop to shoot and she does. I’m trying to make my voice sound softer I suppose, I’m not really sure except outside of Grogu how that sounds. She responds to it and smiles more often, we’ve grown closer and I’m thankful that she’s making progress but it’s slowed some so I can continue to mentor her. 

Maker I have ulterior motives when I do. I can’t think of another good reason to touch her. 

I couldn’t help it. She was holding Grogu and trying to explain the different bolts to him. I bet he was trying to play with her tools while she was sorting them. I placed my hand on her shoulder. It felt like it should be there. She looked up at me and I nodded. I hope she took that to mean that I’m fine with her holding my son. I walked away because I didn't know what to say. She didn’t say anything either. 

I’m lying to myself. I’ve long accepted her holding my son. The Crest wouldn’t be the same without her here. Waiting for me, playing with Grogu, walking through the market, sitting in a comfortable silence in the cockpit. I even look forward to checking my weapon inventory when she’s checking her tools and at the same time. I didn’t think occupying the same space as someone would be so rewarding, well in a different way than my son. Should I tell her any of this?

No. It’s too much and I’m not even sure what this is.

Now wherever we go, I ensure I’m guiding her by her arm, back, or hand. I know I wouldn’t really lose her, she’s clever and would find Grogu and I quickly. The fear is there, I don’t want her to leave, she might want to one day. This life isn’t made for the masses. She’s voiced no complaints. What would I even say if I had to convince her to stay? 

The hunt didn’t take long and this bail jumper is annoying. The only reason I haven’t said I’m putting him on carbonite is that he finally shut up. 

We’re back to the Crest and there’s blood. Too much blood. I put him on carbonite as I spot her and Grogu. He’s a few feet from her, appears to be unarmed. I don’t detect any other life forms on the Crest. The child's scream feels like it will pierce my helmet, I can’t blame him. I too want to scream at the sight. She’s face down and her back is entirely wet with crimson. I ripped her shirt and bra to visualize the wound. It’s large, nearly the entire width of her back, part of her shirt has stuck to the wound. I’ll need to rip more to see, but then her back will be fully exposed and she’s vulnerable as is.

“I apologize for this. I’ll need to cut off the rest of the back of your shirt to clean and apply the spray and…” This is so much different when it’s someone you care for. “It may be easier for me to do if I remove my gloves. They’ve become too slick with your blood. Is that alright?” It feels silly but I need to ask, I need to know it’s okay. I need to let her choose, I already ripped her shirt without asking.

“It’s fine Mando. Do what you need to do. Grogu’s okay right? I didn’t get any blood on him, I think.” She’s worried about my son at this point?! Maker I…I need to focus for her sake. It’s been months since I took off my gloves near another person. I dabbed her back with gauze to remove the residue from what looks to be some local fauna that are quite violent. Their secretions inhibit clotting to weaken their targets and so they can gorge themselves on their blood. Next, I applied pressure to try and get the bleeding to stop enough so the bacta spray will work and won’t wash away in her blood. It appears after a few minutes the bacta spray is holding and the bleeding is slowing further so I apply pressure dressings and make them tight. It may make her a bit sore but the bleeding should stop with this. 

I need to keep watch over her. I placed her in her bunk and wrapped her up tightly. I need her to rest and recover. I want her to wake up and we have more moments, more time. I don’t want her to leave but after this…I can’t blame her. 

She woke up! “You’re awake? Has the pain subsided? I should check-” She shushed me before she sat up. Pulling the blanket back around her should keep her cool. Before I fell asleep beside her, I charted our course back to turn this bail jumper in. I apologized to her. She recalled her training and how she kept Grogu safe. Part of me is proud but she still was hurt badly, I could have lost her. “Mesh'la you were not safe. You were hurt badly. Do…I would not blame you if you wanted to leave.” Words I won’t want to say but do anyway. I want to beg her to stay but it wouldn’t be right. She’s not a warrior like I am. She wanted to see more than the Peli’s garage. I can’t give her that without danger. 

She holds my bare hand and tells me, “I refuse to go. I will not. You’ll have to toss me off. I’ve seen so many things and places and I want to see that much more. You’re stuck with me Mando.” This isn’t the threat she may think it is. “I’m not going to but. I just don’t want to go.” First my son and now… a partner. Someone who wants to be by my side. 

“I am called Din. Please do so while it’s just the three of us.” My thumb stroked her palm and she chuckled. I wonder if I can make her laugh more maybe daily. “You will remain and hopefully I will hear more of your laugh.” Your smile only grows with his answer. “Please rest for now. Our journey isn’t over.”

I told this to her three months ago. Sometimes in the cockpit when the three of us are sitting, I remove my glove and reach across where her warm hand awaits mine as I speak her name. I’m happy to hear my name from her lips when we’re alone. A glove is what I can give her now. When she smiles softly at me I want to give her more, so much more of myself but I’m not sure how. Learning more of her and loving her as the shape of our relationship changes.

I wonder where else she may allow my hand to go. How else she may say my name as we travel and see the galaxy. Will I change the way I say hers? I wonder if I can tell her that she's both my mesh'la and my cyar’ka. Is it still too soon? Maybe as we continue to explore the intimacy we now share, then I can tell her.

Our journey together continues. This is The Way.

Part One. Part Three

Space Buddies 🚀: @linzels-blog @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @missladym1981 @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @magpiepills @megamindsecretlair @anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid @harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @pedroshotwifey @thefrogdalorian @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x plus size reader #din djarin x reader #A Nerdie fic

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Honkai Star Rail Period HCs (Sampo, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Luka)

Original Ask: Could you do more period hcs? Dang Heng/Yinyue, Jing Yuan, Sampo, and Luka please.

Herr you go @yunthebishoujo

CW: blood, mentions of castration (Sampo), mentions of period sex

Sampo x afab! reader, Dan Heng x afab!reader, Jing Yuan x afab!reader, Luka x afab!reader

NOTE: Requests are now open

Sampo Koski

Tall, blue, and handsome? After dealing with you on your period or during PMS, he might be tall, blue, and singing soprano for the rest of his life

Good gods, Sampo would be insufferable. Not that he isn't anyway

It's not that I think he would be actively mean, but he's annoying and hormones make girls grouchy

That and I wouldn't put it past him to use your period as an excuse to run a scam

Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he's used the female populace's monthly affliction as a scam premise prior to dating you

He's just really likely too be just too annoying and end up with no dick as a result

On the other hand, he's a kinky bastard. He'd be up for period sex

Dan Heng

Dan Heng is #1 most clueless guy when it comes to periods

He's not a bad guy, but really, chicks don't advertise the call of mother nature, so he hasn't really dealt with Himeko and March on an intimate level

I'm not sure that's something he came across in his research and the Vidyadhara can't reproduce, so there's every chance female Vidyadhara don't have periods, so he may not even know periods exist

Needless to say, his first experience with your period is a bit of a surprise.

I feel like it would probably be something like waking up with blood on your sheets or having super bad cramps, or blood on the pants, ya know, shit that happens when you bleed for a week out of every month (total BS if you ask me)

Any way you cut it, Dan Heng is seriously concerned. To the point of potentially losing a little bit of his composure. He wouldn't panic but you're bleeding. is something wrong? Do you need to go to the doctor? Why didn't you tell someone?

"Yo, Dan Heng, calm down. This is normal. I do this every month."

Cue Dan Heng.exe has stopped working

To his credit, he stops, listens, and calms down. He's still unnerved, but he helps try to make you comfortable

But afterwards he goes to ask Welt and Himeko about it

In the future, he's pretty good about being aware of it and trying to be as good as possible about it, but I don't think he truly gets used to that much blood every single month

Jing Yuan

You know what? Jing Yuan is not that bad.

He has the advantage of age and being part of a species that reproduces

I'm not sure he's super familiar with the whole period thing, but it's at least on his radar to some extent

But when he starts dating you, he's like the most gentle person. He's the sort who really likes to take care of you and make sure you have what you need

He won't mother hen, but expect pads/tampons, heating pads, whatever your craving is, and plenty of cuddles and you don't even really have to ask

I mean, this guy is known for his ability to be prepared. 100% applies that to you

And if he's at all weirded out by the whole bleeds for a week straight and is fine (which, i do understand, in any other situation someone would have bed out already), he's not overt about it and doesn't let it affect how he treats you

Luka

Luka, Luka, Luka

Of the four, he's probably the most likely to be a typical guy about it

You're bleeding? And still functional? You do this every month? What sorcery is this?

At the same time, he has mad respect for you because he knows he couldn't do it

He also gives appropriate sympathy for cramps

At the same time, 100% best boyfriend. Ask and you shall receive

Totally down for period cuddles, stomach rubs and just general comfort

10/10 Luka is great

#RIP Dan Heng #Sampo might end up castrated sure #But poor Dan Heng is so out of his depth to start with #He just had no idea and now you're miserable #I can make a full fic out of this #Not me being a sadist #Not at all #Sampo #Sampo Koski #Sampo Hcs #sampo x reader #Sampo x afab!reader #sampo x fem!reader #dan heng #Dan Heng hcs #dan heng x fem!reader #dan heng x afab!reader #dan heng x reader #Jing Yuan #Jing Yuan x reader #Jing Yuan x afab!reader #Jing Yuan x fem!reader #Luka hsr #Luka hcs #Luka x reader #luka x fem!reader #Luka x afab!reader #period headcanons #cw: blood #honkai star rail

[supercorpkid]

Powergirl Should Die - 2

Supergirl, Powergirl, B!D. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, J'onn J'onzz.

Word Count: 2840.

Part 1

Kara is the sunshine. It irradiates through her skin and you don't think there's a single soul that would be able to deny that. Your sister is always bringing good light wherever she might go. But you-

You were born to rain clouds. Always almost but never enough. Power, yes. But never Super. Even back in Krypton, you were always blessed in her shadow.

And that was fine, for most of your life. You didn’t care to hide away behind her at school. Didn’t care that when she moved to National City, you had to follow her too. But then she got you inside a skin tight suit, gave you a superhero name, and that was a little too much for you to bear.

Because now you are sleep deprived, too tired to function properly. Haven't rested a bit in days. Patrolling the city, watching everyone's step, listening to every heartbeat and shaky breath. Waiting for the worst.

It's not even that you can't rest because you don't have the time, that is only partially true. You have to go to the Museum and work. You haven't let anyone patrol the city ever since you saw that flash of red in Lena's surveillance camera. Even so, you would still have a couple of hours to nap, if only you could. If only you wouldn't wake up drenched in sweat from your nightmares.

All of them are about what's happening right now. You watch from afar seeing her blonde hair and red cape flying behind her while she writes the words that are now rooted in the depths of your mind. 

Powergirl should die. Why won't she die already?

"That's enough!" J'onn stops the arguing. His deep commanding voice is enough to make everyone shut up, including both of your sisters that had been yelling at you until a minute ago. "You are in a government space and some of you are public figures. I expect at least a little bit of decorum, and if that's not possible then the three of you should go talk somewhere private. Preferably at home."

"Fine by me." Kara says, hardening her jaw. "We're all going home." She speaks almost out of greeted teeth, only one eye blinks, so laser focus on you, it sends shivers down your spine. 

She picks Alex up, ready to fly away, but looks back at you before she does so, almost daring. You don't want to go home with them. All the previous yelling already made clear what their point was. You are getting obsessed with this 'Powergirl should die' thing. You're getting fixated, absorbed, borderline manomaniacal about it. Throwing blame around, wary of the people who are there to help you, snapping at your own flesh and blood. 

Yeah, yeah. No shit.

"Y/N, would you stay behind for a second?" J'onn says, and Kara furrows her brows at him. "She'll catch you in a moment, Kara. You and Alex can go."

"Alright." Kara leaves, but it is clear it wasn't ok by the way she said that. 

He starts walking and you follow him silently throughout the corridors of the DEO, and only stops in front of a lead covered room. "For privacy." He explains, pointing inside and you agree with your head walking in. "Would you like to tell me what the problem is?"

"Besides someone wanting me dead?" You snap. You can't really control how you sound right now, even though you wish you could. You're tired, scared, and suspicious of the very one person you should rely on the most. That makes everyone around you untrustworthy by default.

J'onn agrees with his head. And you bite the inside of your mouth to keep you from spilling the truth.

"Seems enough of a reason to me."

"You think Kara wrote it." He explains it further, saying what you've been thinking. At least someone had the courage to say it out loud. You sigh, looking down. 

It's wrong. Thinking your sister is the one writing all these terrible things about you. But what else would you think? It’s the only lead you have. The only one you need.

"It's a pretty big accusation."

You can't look him in the eyes. Even though you haven't directly said it, he could read all the messed up thoughts you were having about it. "You didn't say I was wrong."

"I didn't say you were right." J'onn counters, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You're going to end up doing something you regret if you don't rest. I'm not going to argue you on this, Y/N. This is not a suggestion, it's an order from a superior. I am not giving you a shift tonight, and I hope that means you won't be on duty."

"What if the writing comes up again?"

"Then we clean it." 

"What if something more than the writing comes up this time?" You can't help the watery eyes when you say that.

He gives you a long pause, "Then we fight it."

Alright, well. You can't argue with that logic. And you also can’t argue with the fact that you are so tired, you might end up doing something stupid. 

So you agree that you won’t patrol tonight, trusting him on this, and leave the DEO. You are well aware that your sisters are waiting for you in Kara’s apartment, ready to tell you what to do. So before you face them, you send Lena a text.

You: Hey! You, me, Love Actually and Thai food tonight?

Lena: Yes, please. All of it sounds perfect ❤️

You smile at her text. Your heart doing a small loop inside you. Alright, now onto the hard part.

You fly in through the window and the second Kara notices your presence, she picks up the conversation from where it was left. 

“How long has it been since you've slept?” She asks, crossing her arms and Alex mimics her action right after. They look like two angry parents, and it makes you even more annoyed. They are not your parents. Your parents exploded 20 years before you even stepped foot on this planet, so. 

“I don’t know.” You mutter, knowing they wouldn't like the honest answer and having no energy to fight them.

“If you would just let me take over for you, mini me. I could patrol the city tonight. I promise I'll call you the second I see something suspicious and –”

“Yeah, ok.”

“What?” Kara and Alex stare at each other.

“I have direct orders from my superior to stay put. And I also have a date – I mean, a movie date – a movie thing with Lena tonight, so yeah. If you want to patrol the city, you do it.”

“Oh.” They stare at each other again, confused about your approach to this. You’ve been very demanding the past few days about how this is only about you and that no one else should get involved, and just one conversation later, you're quick to give up that control? Sounds weird. But they're not going to fight you on this, since it's exactly what they want. "Great! I'll do the patrolling and you do the date."

"And sleep." Alex adds. "Don't forget you need to sleep."

"Sure thing, mom." You force a smile then fly out of Kara's living room, and go back to work.

It’s a lot later that night when you give Lena the empty container of your already eaten Thai food, and snuggle up on her couch, throwing the blanket over your legs and trying to get as comfortable as possible. “Mmm, just FYI I might fall asleep during the movie.” You warn her. “I haven’t had a good night in a while.”

Lena hums her agreement from the kitchen, but soon she is back to her place next to you. “Something’s been worrying you?”

“I guess. But I don’t wanna bore you with that, it’s not something fun to talk about.” You smile when she gets under the blanket too, body so close her warmth irradiates through her skin. 

“You couldn't bore me if you tried, honey.”

“Au contraire, darling. I think everyone at the Museum would say I’m the most boring person alive.” You give her a side smile.

Lena shoots her head up, comically fast. She blinks at you, head clearly going one thousand miles an hour. She is thinking so hard, it's almost loud. You furrow your brows in confusion, while her mouth drops with a 'oh' sound. 

"You're ok?" You pat her leg.

There's no verbal answer. Lena's shaky hands make their way to the collar of your shirt and you sit up straighter trying to understand what's happening right now, and trying to predict what's going to happen next. 

“Lena?” You question her movements when she undoes the first button of your shirt. You swallow. It's not like you never once imagined this happening, but not like this. Not without love confessions and a whole lot of prior conversation.

“Lena, what are you doing?”

Lena doesn’t answer, doesn’t blink. Hands still shaking, but decisively making their way to the second button.

“Lena, please.” She undoes that one as well. And that's when it hits you. You are always wearing your supersuit attire under your clothes, so it's faster when you have to run out from work and such. Panic shoots through your body as you realize that if she unbuttons one more, she’ll be able to see your supersuit. You hold her hands to stop her. “Lena,” you try to smile even if your mouth is completely dry and your breath is stuck in your lungs. “Darling, shouldn’t you kiss me first, before trying to get me naked?”

Lena finally looks back at your eyes, a smile dangling on her lips to match yours. And then she gives you a smirk. “You’re not naked, though. Are you?” 

“Under my clothes? Yeah, I’m naked.” You lie with a fake chuckle. 

She untangles her hand from yours, places it behind your neck and brings your face closer. You hold your breath. Widen your eyes. This is happening. It's happening! You and Lena, it's finally happening!

“What’s going on with you tonight?” You stare down at her mouth. “I’m not complaining, I’m just confused.”

And that’s enough of a distraction for her to move her other hand and unbutton one more. Lena looks down at the white of your supersuit and the little bit of gold from the House of El crest. And you? You panic.

"I, um, I can explain." While your heart beats strongly into your ribcage and there's a loud buzz inside your ears. How do you explain yourself?

Lena seems to be inside her own little world while both hands now make all the way down undoing all of your buttons, opening your shirt to have the House of El crest staring at her in all its secrecy.  

"I'm sorry." You whisper, one tear rolling down your cheek. Because there's no explanation, really. Nothing you can say for yourself to stop Lena from hating you now.

She finally looks up to you, eyes tearing up as well, mouth agape to her recent discovery. You can see it all playing out in her eyes. She has the most expressive ones. Betrayal and anger, sadness and confusion. And then, a few seconds after two tears drop from her eyes, she raises her eyebrows at you. Eyes widening when something hits her.

"Powergirl should die." Lena whispers, swallowing deep. "Oh my God, Y/N. Someone is trying to kill you." 

She launches herself onto you, holding you tight. Her hand entangles on your hair, holding your neck strongly. 

"Oh, darling." She whispers, her body even closer now. You feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, while you seek comfort on her arms, face buried on her neck. "No wonder you've been so careless."

"What?" 

"Au contraire, darling? Please, Y/N, I've never heard anyone say that except for you. And Powergirl, apparently." 

"Lena." You whine, embarrassed. Can't believe you made it that easy. You guess J'onn was right, you were about to do something stupid from the lack of sleep. "Someone wants me dead." You try to justify, earning a smile from her.

"You really are tired, huh?" She brings you closer again, kisses your temple. "You thought I was trying to get you naked, honey."

"Lenaaaa." You whine harder, face burning red from embarrassment. God, you're such a loser. "Can you please ignore everything I said tonight? I haven't slept an inch in four days."

Lena smiles fondly at you, while she strokes your cheek delicately. She plants a kiss there, then a light one on your lips. It's so soft, it holds no sexual implication. Just pure comfort. "Come on, Powergirl. You need a power nap."

"Oh God." You complain again, but soon Lena hugs you tight, and with your head on her chest, and Love Actually playing in the back, you're fast asleep. You don't even care if the writing shows up all over town tonight. There's no other place you'd rather be.

You wake up from your place on Lena's chest. Sometime last night she laid back on the couch and you curled yourself around her, not ready to let go. It was the first night you haven't had any nightmares.

You hear a few knocks on the balcony door, and you and Lena raise your heads at the same time to the intruder on the other side. Kara. She is smiling and waving, then she widens her eyes and turns around quickly. X-ray vision. You look down to Lena's body under yours, and your leg slotted between hers. 

"Oh my God. I'm sorry." You get up in a flash, shirt still hung open with a clear view of your supersuit. "Shit, fuck."

Lena gets up as well, trying to look less disheveled to your sister's eyes. And after you button up your shirt, you finally open the balcony door and clean your throat, so Kara can look back at you.

"Hi!" She tries with the biggest, most awkward smile ever. "Just, um, wanted to say that there's nothing new for me to, um, report?" 

You look back at Lena who knows exactly what Kara is talking about, but is looking down pretending she doesn't.

"I didn't mean to interrupt –"

"You didn't." You both are quick to say.

"Oh-kay?" Kara raises her eyebrows, a smile reaching her eyes, and you know exactly what she is insinuating. And sure, you thought the same thing last night, but you're both wrong.

"Can I get a ride?" You ask and Supergirl eagerly agrees. You turn back at Lena. "Thanks for –" You bite your tongue. You don't want to say anything in front of your sister. "Lunch later?"

"Lunch." Lena agrees with her head. And you smile before letting Kara pick you up and fly out of her balcony with you.

When you're out of sight, you untangle yourself and start flying next to her. "So no writing last night, huh?"

"Nope. Not even a kitten to rescue to keep me entertained." Kara grins devilishly at you. "You, on the other hand, was well entertained last night."

"Yeah, well. I slept for the first time in four days and had no nightmares. I'd say I was very entertained."

"Nightmares?" Kara stops flying, and you have to fly back a little, so you can talk face-to-face. "You haven't had nightmares in years."

"That's not true. I've been having them for… I guess, months now?" 

"Months?" Kara's eyebrows furrow so hard, her crinkle shows. "When did they start?"

"They're just nightmares, Kara." You argue, annoyed. But she looks at you with an expression you almost couldn’t read. It's a midst of worrisome and distrust. 

You furrow your own eyebrows, looking back at her. And then it hits you. The only reason you recognize this look, is because it's how you've been looking at her for the past four days.

"When did they start?" She repeats, strongly this time.

"I don't know." You lie. You know exactly when they started. Right after she gave you a superhero name and your first mission. Ever since, you haven't been able to sleep right.

"Let's make sure you don't have them anymore." Your sister finally breathes out. "Maybe you should try sleeping more times with Lena. It looks like she helps."

Wouldn't she like having you back at no patrolling so she can go back to the new way she found to be passive-aggressive and make you question your every single step?

"I'll pick up some extra shifts and I'm sure J'onn won't mind picking up some as well. That way you can rest your head a little."

You narrow your eyes at her, questioning her intentions. "Why don't you worry about your own enemies, and let me deal with mine?" 

She doesn't answer and you're certainly happy you rendered Kara Zor-El speechless for the first time all your life.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x reader #alex danvers #baby danvers #lena x reader #reader insert #supergirl imagine #alex x reader #powergirl

[hood-ex]

You’re like the Dick Grayson encyclopedia of tumblr to me, so here is a question (no need to answer if you don’t want to lol). I’ve been thinking a lot of Dick’s many TBIs due to one of my classes… anyways, do you know when Dick’s significant TBI’s happened? Like what comics specifically? (Also, this is just for anyone, but you can answer if you’d like: does DC every say what part of Dick’s brain got injured during his TBIs?)

Idk one of my classes has talked a lot about specific brain functions and what could happen if certain areas are injured, and I obviously thought of my head trauma king. Got me thinking about the consequences Dick could have or should have faced with his TBIs 🤔

Dick's been clobbered in the head with a variety of things an ungodly amount of times. I even once made a post about different times Dick got clobbered in the head with like a baseball bat, golf club, etc. And then other people piled on more examples so lol yeah, I suppose some of those would be considered... less significant TBI's.

His most recent significant TBI did show which area of his brain got injured:

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #50

According to Dick, he lost bone, blood, brain tissue, and cerebrospinal fluid, and he also suffered from severe vascular swelling. He talked about how one of the effects of this was having a jump in consciousness. Like he wouldn’t understand how he ended up somewhere. - Nightwing (Vol. 4) #50

Right after the incident, he also couldn’t talk or feed himself (which isn't the case in Nightwing Annual #2 but whatever). - Nightwing (Vol. 4) #54

Dick's been shot in the head another time in Batman and Robin (Vol. 1) #15. Dr. Hurt fractured the back of Dick's skull to cause a hematoma. The intended effect was to have blood absorbed in the cerebrospinal fluid which would give Dick permanent neurological damage. So, basically, he wanted to turn Dick into a vegetable. Here's the placement of the bullet in case you were curious:

Batman and Robin (Vol. 1) #15

From here on out, it depends on what you'd classify as a major TBI. I mean, he once got clobbered on the top of his head with an extremely heavy looking mallet. He ended up blacking out from it for an extended period of time, so I'd personally count this as something on the more extreme side.

Nightwing (Vol. 3) #16

And speaking of blacking out, Dick blacked out four times in the current Nightwing run because he kept getting hit in the head (this takes place after Dick gets shot in the head by KGBeast—except the flashback one—sooo... his brain is probably feeling extra soupy now 😌):

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #92

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #81

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #81

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #101

In Robin: Year One #2-3, Dick had bandages around his head and might have taken a shot to the head from Two-Face's bat (though, luckily, Two-Face didn't get to deliver the final blow to Dick's head that would have killed him instantly). It seems like other internal injuries were more prominent as well as the fact that Dick's throat started to swell so badly that Alfred had to intubate him. Nevertheless, Dick nearly died from the severe beating, and the head injury might have increased his chance of dying.

Robin: Year One #3

In Superman/Batman #55, Bruce got Superman’s powers and he ended up losing control of himself. He broke Dick’s jaw, knocked some of his teeth out, and caused other fractures to Dick’s body (it doesn't specify where the fractures are but Dick's head possibly might be fractured considering the bandages). Bruce warned Dick that one more hit would kill him (very RYO-esque, no 😌?).

Superman/Batman #55

And, again, we could probably go on and on with him getting hit in the head and blacking out over this and that, so I'll end it here.

#woke up from a nap w a headache and these are all i can think of rn but if anyone else can think of a major tbi then go ahead and list it #Dick Grayson #TBI #head injuries #anon